


All Over You

by whisperofgrace



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 21:03:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3223352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperofgrace/pseuds/whisperofgrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After saving Henry the group are about to set off to find their way home from Neverland when Neal turns up alive, causing Emma to question her options. Pairings are Emma&Hook and Emma&Neal (but is overall a Captain Swan fic, although will be angsty). Rated M for future chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For this fic, it was mainly the interactions between Emma, Hook and Neal that I was writing for, so there will be gaps in the storytelling between the bits that I want to get out, but hopefully it makes sense, either by summarizing it between chapters or having the characters recall it etc.
> 
> I'd also like to specify that this is a Captain Swan fic, and although I know it would be described as a love-triangle type plot, that's only because at the moment I feel like this would be a realistic way for Emma to deal with finding out that Neal is alive.

Lifting her hair off her hot neck, Emma wished more than anything that she'd brought a hair tie with her from the ship. The weather in Neverland was unpredictable: when they'd left the ship a few hours ago it had been slightly cloudy and cool, but in the short time that they'd been away those clouds had disappeared and the heat from the sun was merciless.

'If you're too hot darling, feel free to relieve yourself of a few layers,' came a chipper voice from behind her. 'Please, don't suffer due to modesty on my account.'

Emma stopped for a few seconds, letting Hook catch up to her so that she could give him a glare and kept walking, now pretty much side by side. He'd foregone his vest and wore just his baggy black shirt and his leather pants. She couldn't imagine how stifling it still must be for him in those colours. 'If I removed a few layers I'd be nude,' she told him bluntly.

His smirk only widened and he waggled his eyebrows at her. 'Just looking out for you, love.'

Rolling her eyes, Emma pulled at the bottom of her shirt to let some air in. 'I'm not stripping for you, Hook. We're almost there.'

They had spent the afternoon stocking up on supplies, taking what food they could from the island before they set out on their next journey. It had only been a few days since they had saved Henry from the clutches of Peter Pan's shadow and although they were still weren't quite home, Emma was finally starting to relax. She couldn't remember the last time that things felt like they were clicking into the right place - she finally had her parents, and she had her son back. And even though they didn't quite have a way to get home yet, Hook thought he knew who would. After all, he'd left Neverland before.

All they had to do was find Tinkerbelle.

Finally the trees thinned before them, with perfect timing, too. The Jolly Roger was anchored a little way away from the shore and Hook had advised against leaving the rowboat on the beach, even if they'd hidden it, so David had rowed them to shore with a promise to return in a few hours. Emma could see him not too far off and knew it wouldn't be too long before he jumped out and walked through the last bit of shallow water to reach the sand. Seeing Henry beside him in the boat only made her smile. She didn't know whether it was excitement to see her or just to be doing these strange things like rowing boats back and forth from a pirate ship, but she was glad for his excitement, glad to be able to see him smile again.

Steeling herself, she stopped before they left the edge of the trees. Hook continued for a few steps before realising that she was no longer beside him. The concern on his face when he turned to see what had made her stop only made her feel right in her thoughts. 'What's wrong?' he asked her, his voice low.

Feeling awkward as hell and trying not to show it, Emma twisted the hem of his shirt between her fingers. 'Nothing's wrong,' she said, smiling when he narrowed his eyes at her doubtfully. 'I mean it, I'm fine. Great, actually.' Taking a deep breath, she let go of her shirt and took a step toward him, knowing that they didn't have much time. 'I need to thank you. If it wasn't for you, I never could have gotten my son back. We couldn't have done any of this without you.'

The suspicious in his eyes was gone, replaced by a soft look that she was beginning to see a little bit more of lately. 'You don't need to thank me, Emma. You know that.'

'Yes I do.' Stepping forward again so she was now standing directly in front of him, Emma tried and failed miserably to ignore how her skin tingled just at the thought of being close to him, of him touching her. 'I needed to thank you properly while we still have a moment to ourselves.'

That spark caught in his eyes again. 'You know very well that we can find a few moments to ourselves once we're back on the Jolly.'

Feeling her cheeks flush, Emma looked away, unable to match his gaze with their close proximity, even knowing that she'd caused it. She felt afire and not just from the heat, and knew that if she kissed him now she wouldn't be able to stop easily, and both Henry and David could probably see them now. Memories of their shared moments filed her memory, of bickering and desperation and loneliness that had led to quite a few passionate kisses as she struggled to deny her attraction to him. The last time, she'd given up trying, and they hadn't spoken about it since. She was surprised he hadn't taken the chance and brought it up today. 'Yes, well... we need to talk about that...'

Hook pressed his hook against her waist and his right hand against her cheek, forcing her to look up to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes should have surprised her, but she found that it didn't. She knew they read each other well. 'Emma,' he began.

'Dad? Dad!'

The shouts were followed quickly by a loud splash and Emma pulled away quickly, rushing from the shelter of the trees out onto the open beach, panicked by Henry's shouts. The first thing she saw was David standing ankle-deep in the water, the rope attached to the rowboat hanging loosely from his hand as he stared off to her left. Following his gaze, she saw Henry running - not kidnapped, not hurt, just running, but not to her. Hearing Hook come to a stop not too far from her, she turned to see what Henry was running towards, his cries only now just starting to decode in his mind.

_Dad?_

The first person she saw was... was that Mulan? It looked like her, but she was just a little too far away to tell, especially since the girl had discarded her heavy warrior garb and wore instead simple breeches and a light, loose tunic. And a few metres in front of her, running to meet her son, was...

Neal.

'Oh my god,' she whispered, feeling frozen to the spot. Dimly she was aware of David and Mulan nearing her from their opposite directions, but it seemed that for all intents and purposes her brain had flat lined. As Henry jumped into Neal's arms Emma felt her heart pull.

_He was alive._

Seeing but not really understanding, Emma watched motionless as Neal held onto Henry for a good minute before setting him down and looking around. When his eyes found her she felt herself come back a little bit to herself and took a step toward him, two. 'Emma!' he cried, running toward them, Henry coming up behind him.

'Neal!' When he reached her his arms went around her waist, lifting her much like he had Henry and spinning her a little. Her hands grabbed at his shoulders to steady herself.

'I can't believe I found you here. Thank god you're safe.'

'I'm so glad you're alive.' Emma felt tears she hadn't known had been waiting spill down her cheeks. Neal set her down on the ground and took her face in his hands.

'I love you, Emma,' he told her fervently, bending his head and pressing his lips against hers.

He kissed her desperately, pulling her body close to his and wrapping his around her tighter. Still stunned from - well, from everything - Emma let herself be kissed, trying to piece together too many things at once. Before she could get too far she felt another pair of arms wrap around both her and Neal. Neal broke off his kiss and wrapped his other arm around Henry, the three of them standing with their arms wrapped around each other. Emma closed her eyes and pressed her forehead hard against Neal's shoulder, feeling herself trembling.

Taking a deep breath, she looked up - and felt her breath catch in her throat.

David and Mulan were staring at them with expressions mixed of shock, confusion, joy; pretty much what was going through her mind. She barely noticed them, however.

Hook was standing a little way behind the others. He stood so stiffly, and his good hand was curled into a fist. He was watching them, and when their eyes met a cool, careful expression took his features.

But she was sure she hadn't imagined the hurt and confusion in his eyes when she'd first seen him.


	2. Chapter 2

Closing the door to his cabin firmly behind him, Killian went immediately to the cupboard beside his bed and pulled an open bottle of rum from the shelf. Most of it was stored in the hold, but he'd long ago started keeping some aside so that his crew wouldn't get their hands on it and waste his finest. Grabbing a tin cup from that same shelf, he strode over to his desk and sat behind it, filing his cup and downing it in one go before pouring another. Taking another mouthful, he leaned back in his chair and tried to let the familiarity of the situation - the room, the rum, the slouch - relax him.

Eyeing the bottle warily, he wondered how much of it he'd have to go through before it actually started to work.

He was a fool. There was no other explanation. He had understood Emma's desperate need to find her son, and so when he had felt such a strong connection with her he had held back, waiting for a better time, thinking that she was doing the same. Their constant close proximity and the frustration of the search had led them into each other's arms a few times; normally arguments about the best course of action turning into heated kisses. And the last few times...

Closing his eyes, Killian let himself remember the feel of her soft skin under his lips, his hand on her wherever he could reach. The sweet smell of her, the way her hot mouth felt on his skin. The sound of her moans as she writhed under his touch, and the look on her face as he made her come undone. The memories were torture but he drank them in, needing to be sure that every moment was imprinted in his mind.

He should be trying to forget her, but he was a sucker for misery, it seemed.

Despite his best efforts, newer images slowly began to replace the ones he preferred. Downing another drink, he tried to chase them away, but to no avail. Baelfire running towards Emma, stumbling a little in the sand in his haste to get to her. Their arms around each other, him lifting her and spinning her off her feet. The way they had kissed, like there was no one else in the world but the two of them, until Henry caught up to them and they had hugged each other close, a perfect little family, something that he could never be a part of.

He was a damned fool, all right.

The small rowboat had been too small to fit all of them, so David had rowed Emma, Neal and Henry to the Jolly Roger before returning for himself and Mulan. The warrior had looked him up and down once before apparently coming to the conclusion that he wasn't up for cheerful discussions of reunion, and had kept quiet until David had returned. Killian had introduced them quickly as they made their way to the ship.

_Mulan looked at his cautiously, speaking to him for the first time after a few minutes of rowing. 'So you're on the good side now?'_

_'It appears so,' he said, narrowing his eyes at her._

_Cocking her head, she studied her warily. 'For how long?'_

_He opened his mouth to retort angrily - he was sure in the mood to pick a fight - but David spoke first. 'We've learned to trust him, Mulan. It's because of him that we were able to save Henry.'_

Although she hadn't said anything on the topic since then, Mulan had kept her distance once they had reached the ship. Which suited him just fine. As everyone else had spoken over each other, trying to find out what had happened since they'd been separated in Storybrooke, he'd pulled the anchor and made preparations to get them a little way out to sea before night fell. He didn't have it in him to sail through the night, but he wouldn't leave them anchored so close to shore. Although his ship needed a hand at the helm to steer, he could man it on his own - the benefit of an enchanted ship - so he didn't ask for help as he got them underway. David had sent him a look enquiring if he needed assistance, but he'd shaken his head, preferring the solitude. The recently reunited family didn't seem to notice. Baelfire, Emma and Henry sat close together, father and son talking almost nonstop, Baelfire looking constantly between Emma and their son. Emma herself was quiet, staring at the hand that Baelfire held tightly in his own. Rumplestiltskin had stood behind the trio, his hand gripping his sons shoulder.

As soon as they'd been a safe distance from shore, Killian had dropped the anchor and headed below deck. Everyone else seemed to be having a merry old time. They'd opened a few bottles of rum, grumbling that it was the only liquor on the ship but drinking it all the while, the whole group celebrating. Even Regina joined in, under the condition that everyone knew that she was only joining them to celebrate Henry's rescue.

A few hours ago he would have been happy to join them, ready to celebrate Henry's return just as much as any of the others. And he had to admit that a big part of him was happy for Baelfire to be alive, the poor boy who he had known all those years ago. But a big part of him wished that he had died when they all thought he had.

Unable to tell which part was bigger and feeling like scum because of it, Killian went to take another drink and realised his cup was empty again. Tossing it aside, he took the bottle and drank straight from it, big mouthfuls that burned his throat on the way down. He'd have to get another in a few minutes.

Before he could stand, there was a tentative knock on his cabin door. He was about to yell at whoever it was to leave him in peace when the door opened and Baelfire himself poked his head through the opening. 'Do you have a minute?'

 _I'm not drunk enough for this yet,_  he thought, waving his hand to bid him enter. Pushing himself to his feet, he took another bottle and held it out for Baelfire to see. 'Drink?'

Baelfire slowly walked into the room, looking around quickly. 'Ah, sure.'

Taking two fresh cups from the cupboard, he tried to keep his face guarded as he made his way back to his desk, dropping them on the table. He grabbed a spare chair from against the wall and put it down on the other side of his desk. Baelfire sat as Killian did the same, pouring some rum into one of the cups and pushing it in front of the other man. He half filled his own cup and took it in hand before reconsidering and filling it the rest of the way.

Neither of them spoke. Baelfire was staring into his cup so Killian took the opportunity to study him, feeling curious about the boy who he had known several lifetimes ago. He looked tired, worn down. Rumplestiltskin's son... Milah's son. He pushed away the pain of her memory, knowing that if he dwelled on that for too long he'd lose his temper.

'How long ago did you get out?' he said, breaking the silence and trying to distract himself from his own thoughts.

Baelfire didn't need to ask him what he meant. 'Almost twenty years ago.' He pressed his eyes closed as if chasing away his own memories, and downed his drink. 'And you?'

Killian downed his own and had to blink a few times before he could focus to refill both their cups. 'Almost thirty, but I was frozen in the Enchanted Forest for the last twenty eight by Regina's curse.' He paused, then set the bottle down heavily. 'Bloody hell. My own stepchild is older than me,' he exclaimed without thinking.

The look on Baelfire's face made him immediately regret his words. Maybe the drink had affected him a little more than he thought. Baelfire coughed harshly, choking on his own drink, before staring at Killian with wide eyes. 'You were  _married_?'

This is not where he'd wanted the conversation to go, but he knew it was own fault for bringing it up, albeit unintentionally. 'No, we weren't. But we were in love. I don't know if you remember the last time we met, but I told you that we were going to come back for you and I meant it. I know you were angry when you found out that I was the man who took her from you, but I sorely regretted letting you leave.' He sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hair, feeling extremely uncomfortable. 'There is not enough rum in the world for this conversation,' he muttered.

He found himself unable to meet the other man's eyes.  _What a mess_. Neither of them spoke for a little while, then Baelfire shifted in his chair.

'I don't blame you anymore.'

Killian looked up at him reluctantly, and saw that same hesitancy in the other man's eyes. He had a feeling that being this open with someone who was now a near stranger was just as foreign to him as it was to the pirate.

'For taking my mother,' Baelfire continued. 'I've had a bit of time to think about it all,' he said wryly, 'and I know that if it was anyone's fault, it was hers. You didn't make her leave me, you just gave her the opportunity. You were the reason, but it was her decision.'

For a moment, he let himself submit to the memory. 'I wasn't the only reason,' he told the man before him, picturing instead the young boy who he'd found on his ship nearly three hundred years ago. 'Adventure was the reason. She didn't want the quiet life anymore. And she  _did_  want to share her new life with you, but when she left you were just too young to have any sort of life on a pirate ship...'

'I know.' Baelfire cleared his throat, hesitated, took a drink and poured another. Killian grew increasingly uncomfortable; as truthful as he'd just been about his regret and his love for the boy's mother, he couldn't quite comprehend that that same boy was now the man who had been all over Emma just a few hours ago. He'd known that he was Henry's father, but having an adult face to put on the child made that knowledge seem so much more... wrong. 'Um... I actually came down here to thank you.'

Killian raised his eyebrow at him. 'Excuse me?'

'For saving Henry.' Baelfire leaned forward suddenly, resting his elbows on the desk between them. 'I know it was mostly your doing. I didn't have very long with him but he's a pretty remarkable kid.'

Despite himself, he felt a smile tug at his lips as he remembered the never ending excitement that was bottled within the lad. 'Aye, he is,' he said softly.

'And also for helping Emma,' he continued. 'Henry told me that you saved her life a few times while you were here.'

Killian stiffened slightly at the mention of her name, then tried to hide it by attempting to pour another drink. His hand shook a little as he tilted the bottle - damn it, the drink  _was_  affecting him more than he thought.  _Good_ , he thought darkly. 'Neverland is a dangerous place, as you well know,' he said, voice surprisingly calm. 'We each did our own share of saving during our search.'

'Yeah, well.' Baelfire simply sat there for a moment, then pushed himself to his feet. 'Thank you, anyway. You have no idea how much I appreciate being back with them and knowing they are safe.' He tipped his empty cup to him and set it on the desk. 'Cheers for the drink, Hook.'

'Do you love her?'

The words slipped out before he could stop them. Baelfire turned back to him slowly, a small frown marring his brow. Killian held his gaze almost defiantly, knowing he should probably be trying to appear amicable but unable to find it within himself.

'I do,' he said softly. 'I tried to forget her for a very long time, but life pushed us back together and I realised I could never get her out of my head. I'm a lucky man to get such a second chance.'

Feeling sick, Killian forced a smile, sure that it came out more like a grimace. 'Indeed,' he managed. Baelfire gave him one more long look before turning and exiting the cabin, closing the door softly behind him.

He managed to hold in his anger until he heard the footsteps disappear up to the deck, then grabbed the first empty bottle and threw it into the cold fireplace. He growled irately at the mess, quite mindful of the fact that it was his own fault but willing to let it stir his fury. This wasn't him. He hadn't let something get to him like this in a very long time. To be so worked up and - he begrudgingly admitted it to himself if not aloud - jealous over a woman was ridiculous.

Unfortunately, as he felt his mind wander back to her he felt his anger lessen and turn into gloominess. He really just wanted things to go back to how they were this afternoon. They'd spent a day in good companionship, quietly going about their gathering until it was time to leave. He'd wanted to say something to her but had decided against it, confident enough in their back and forth that he was willing to wait for her to make the next move. He'd always loved a woman's reaction to him and had known how to use it to get what he wanted, but had never been as thrilled with the chase as he was with Emma Swan. He had thought that he'd finally won, that she was about to finally give in to him when his hand had lifted her face to look at him and he'd seen the openness in her eyes.

He'd give anything to go back to that moment, and he hated that bitterly. He hated how quickly that connection had obviously disappeared from her thoughts, her arms around her old lover, returning his kiss.

He was not normally the one who was left forgotten.

Sighing heavily, he kicked a few stray shards of glass further into the fireplace and unlaced his boots, stripping down to his usual bed attire - nothing - before grabbing the half empty bottle and blowing out the lanterns lit around the room, taking the last one with his hook and heading over to his bed. Setting the lantern on the short table beside his bed, he pushed the covers back and slipped inside, leaning back and letting his head fall against the wall.

Closing his eyes, Killian brought the bottle of rum to his lips. He was going to drink until he passed out, and hoped fruitlessly that he wouldn't dream of her.


	3. Chapter 3

The rocking of the ship woke Killian slowly, the familiar movement making him feel calm and at peace. After all this time it still mesmerised him, and it, more than anything, was what truly felt like home. Without opening his eyes he brought his hand up to run his fingers through his hair and rub his hand over his face. He propped himself up on his elbows, the blankets gathering around his waist, his sigh turning into a low groan as the movement triggered the vicious pounding in his head.  _Oh yes. That._

He was no stranger to hangovers, and thankfully this one seemed to leave him with only a splitting headache and not a queasy stomach. Lowering himself back onto the bed, he let his mind drift, relaxing to the feel of his ship cutting easily through the waves on what he could tell was a clear day.

Realising what his thoughts had just meant, Killian sat up abruptly, wincing as the movement jolted his sore head. He'd been a pirate for over three hundred years, captaining this very ship for the most of that, and he could tell the conditions without even thinking on it. He could tell the difference between a quiet swell and a choppy ocean, a storm and hurricane. He knew the difference between being anchored at sea and docked in a harbour. And he definitely could tell the difference between being anchored and on the move.

And right now, his ship was definitely moving.

Pushing aside his pain, Killian made an effort to still his rush, dressing calmly and deliberately; one did not look imposing and in control when yesterday's clothes were hastily thrown on. The extra time also helped in arranging his irritation. Deftly closing the final clasp on his vest, he surveyed himself quickly in the small mirror by his dresser, hoping no one would notice the bags under his eyes, or their redness.

The air was cooler today, the slight chill in the air very welcome on his cheeks. He let himself enjoy the feeling of the wind in his hair for just a moment before he hardened his face and stalked up to the helm.

'What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?'

Baelfire stood with his hands on the wheel, Emma by his side. He allowed himself a moment to drink her in - she looked magnificent, her cheeks red and hair tousled from the wind. But she also looked tired. He forced that thought down, telling himself that it was no longer any concern of his but not quite believing it.

He forced his attention back to Baelfire, who cleared his throat and shifted his grip on the spokes slightly. 'They told me that the plan is to find Tinkerbelle and convince her to open a portal for us. That's how you left last time, isn't it?'

'Aye,' Killian said hesitantly.

'Well I agree that it's the best chance we've got, but none of us wants to be here longer than we have to. I tried to wake you up at dawn but you were dead to the world.' Blinking a few times to clear his head, Killian looked up at the sky and saw, to his surprise, that it was a lot later than he thought, almost noon. How late had he stayed up drinking? 'I thought we could steer in shifts' Baelfire continued, the caution clear in his voice, his expression indifferent. 'You know that I'm up to it.'

He briefly considered denying him, just to be spiteful, but he knew that wouldn't help anything. And strangely, the memory of Baelfire's joy at manning his ship when he was a lad was tugging at his mind. 'Aye, lad, you learnt from the best,' Killian jested, the words coming out automatically. He was off-balance, and felt best hiding that behind his cockiness. Crossing his arms, he raised a eyebrow. 'You should have asked me however, before you decided to  _commandeer_  my ship.'

Baelfire shrugged noncommittally. Killian hoped that he remembered enough of the pirate captain to know that although he had spoken lightly, the threat was very much there in his words. The look on Emma's face said that she'd heard it. 'I did try,' Baelfire pointed out. He nodded to the wheel. 'If you don't mind taking over now that you're well rested, I might go get some rest myself before I take my turn again tonight.'

Killian nodded and took the wheel as Baelfire let go. Baelfire put his arm around Emma's waist and began to lead her away. A low growl escaped his throat involuntarily at the idea of someone else's hands on her, but he covered it by clearing his throat loudly. 'Swan. A word.'

He spoke without thinking, but he was unwilling to let himself avoid this. Emma stiffened, then turned around slowly and took a few slow steps back to him. She was still too far away, always too far away, but with Baelfire frowning at him he swallowed his suggestion to come closer. After a few seconds Baelfire seemed to shrug it off and disappeared below deck.

She wasn't looking at him. He took the opportunity to stare unashamedly and suddenly all he wanted to do was touch her. He gripped the wheel tighter instead, but couldn't take his eyes off of her.

He knew the moment that she gathered her courage and steeled herself; he saw the deep breath, the clench of her jaw and fists. 'What do you want, Hook?'

 _Back to Hook, I see._  He raised an eyebrow at her but let it pass. He had a thousand things to say to her and they all essentially boiled down to "What in the devil's name was going on?" Yesterday he was confident enough in their unspoken feelings for each other to trust her not to hurt him, but things were different now. Asking her outright what was happening in her head would be the easy option, but he had lived a very long time and was very adept at closing his heart off.

'I can't say I thought that I could be replaced so quickly, love,' he said, narrowing his eyes a little at her. 'I hadn't realised you missed your perfect happy little family quite so much.'

She flinched away from him, turning so that he couldn't see her face. It only lasted a moment before she turned back and walked up to him, standing just out of arms reach from where he stood with his good hand on the wheel. He'd have thought the redness to her cheeks was from the wind if it hadn't been for the anger in her eyes. 'You do  _not_  get to be angry at me for being happy that my son's father is alive!' she hissed at him, pressing her clenched fists against her thighs. 'After everything that's happened, all of the evil that he's been exposed to, having his father back is  _what he needs_.'

'He could -' Killian swallowed his words, swearing inwardly.  _He could have had me._  He knew that the idea of being the boy's father was very likely spawned by his history with Baelfire himself being revisited, but he knew that Emma would find both ideas ridiculous. Especially now that Henry had his own father back in his life. He stepped closer to her, his arm extended behind him slightly to keep the wheel in hand. 'Stop pretending that this is about your boy,' he said quietly, scowling at her.

She stared back at him defiantly. 'This  _is_  about Henry. I'm trying to do what's best for him. He only wants his family back together. This is what he wants.'

Killian felt those words like a blade in his chest. 'This is what he wants? Is his father being alive not enough for him? What about what  _you_  want?' With that he reached out with his left arm and caught his hook around her upper arm, pulling her towards him. She tried to pull away but only succeeded in twisting her body so that her back was to his chest. He moved quickly, turning so that he pinned her between his body and the wheel of the ship. He heard her gasp as her breath went out of her but he didn't give her time to recover, pushing her hard against the wood.

'Get off me,' she snarled.

Rubbing his cheek against her bare neck, he breathed in deeply, closing his eyes to fully enjoy the smell that was just purely her. She struggled against him but he knew she wasn't really trying - they'd fought before, and he knew that she could free herself if she truly wanted to. Her hands gripped the wheel in front of her, knuckles white. 'What do you want?' he murmured, his lips brushing her skin with his words before he kissed her neck hotly. 'What do you want from me, Emma?'

Kissing his way slowly up to the skin just behind her ear, he switched hands, taking the wheel with his hook and running his right hand down her body, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist and using it to press her even closer to him. Gods, the feel of her body on his was almost making his knees weak. His fingers found the hem of her shirt and disappeared underneath, working softly against her bare skin. He felt her tense under his touch and took his hand slightly higher.

'Is this not enough for you?' he whispered fervently. 'Do you really want him to touch you like I do? Can he make you feel like I can?'

'Stop,' she whimpered, even as she pressed herself back against him. He felt himself stirring against her despite himself. He slipped his hand beneath her bra and tweaked her nipple, thrilling as she let out a small whimper. Removing his hand, he went back to running his fingers across her stomach.

'Tell me you don't want me and I'll stop,' he offered. He knew he sounded cold but couldn't find it in himself to care. He was angry at her for denying him, at himself for being too late. At Baelfire for being alive. 'Tell me that you don't want me to touch you, that you don't  _love_  the way I make you feel.'

She moaned softly, her body shaking, letting her head fall back against his chest as he ran just his fingertips below the waist of her pants. He was getting his way, he was making her want him, but he also wanted her to hurt. Returning his mouth to her neck, he kissed her gently at first then bit down hard, sucking at her skin at the same time, intent on marking her.

She yelped and twisted violently, causing his mouth to break apart from her skin. Before he could get a better grip on her he felt her elbow hard against his chest and he stumbled back a step, which gave her enough room to jump away from him. She paced to the side of the ship before spinning on her heel and storming back up to him, glaring at him but not saying anything.

They stared each other down for what felt like minutes, both of them trying to catch their breath. She didn't look tired anymore but she was no less dishevelled, and as glorious as ever. He suddenly wanted to reach out to her, to ease the anger in her eyes. But he also wanted to shake her. He knew she was worried about Henry but surely his mother's happiness would be more important to the boy than whether his parents were together. And they had been  _so close_ to happiness, surely it wasn't out of reach just yet if she still reacted to him like this. If she truly wanted to be with Baelfire then she would have spoken of him when she thought he was dead, wouldn't she? If she truly wanted Neal then there wouldn't be a glaze of lust marring the anger in her eyes right now.

The anger faded to uncertainty. He opened his mouth to speak, to start trying to take back some of his anger, but when she looked down to her feet he paused. Suddenly she looked... sad. 'Emma,' he began, gentling his voice.

She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head slightly away from him. 'The last time we saw each other, I told Neal that I loved him.'

She spoke quietly, but he heard her over the roar of the ocean. He heard her in his bones.

For the first time since Baelfire had left Killian looked away from her, not wanting her to see what he knew must have been clear on his face. He was a fool. He'd known that Baelfire's death had hurt her but he'd assumed that she'd been upset for Henry's sake. Baelfire had told him last night that he loved her, but if she truly still loved him too...

Nothing that he had thought she felt for him had been real. He dragged his hand across his face, digging his fingers into his skin. His head had started pounding again. He knew she was a guarded person but he thought that he'd been breaking through slowly, and the last time they had been together it hadn't felt just like frustration, like simple lust. It had felt like more; it had felt real. And he'd thought he'd seen that realness in her eyes when she'd cried out his name, his real name. But, no.

Had he just been projecting his own hopes and feelings back at himself?

_She loved Baelfire._

'Hook.'

He didn't turn back to her. He couldn't. His bitterness overwhelmed him. How could he have thought that she'd really want him? How could he have thought she'd want him for Henry? Even after Baelfire had appeared with Mulan yesterday a small part of him had held on, sure that they just needed to talk about it, that he had nothing to worry about. That she'd stay with him.

 _Stay with him?_  he thought darkly. He'd never had her.

She walked around him to stand on his other side, trying to catch his gaze. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her reach out her hand hesitantly toward him. 'Killian?'

Before her hand touched his arm he spun toward her, catching her wrist in his grip. She sucked in her breath as he stepped up to her, so close that her breasts brushed against his chest with every stuttering breath she took.  _Was that fear in her eyes?_  His mind automatically reached for concern but he replaced it with a very firm,  _Good._  Let her fear him. He wanted her to hurt like he was hurting, to feel as betrayed by him as he felt by her. Killian Jones couldn't do a thing to hurt her, but he was going to give her Captain Hook and the captain didn't care about anybody. 'Leave,' he said quietly, forcing calmness into his voice.

She stared up at him, wide eyed. 'Killian,' she whispered.

His calm snapped, replaced by a sudden wave of anger. 'Leave!' he snarled, pushing her arm away violently.

Emma cradled her wrist against her chest and backed away slowly. Her eyes looked red, her face pale. 'I -'

'Captain? Gramps says the Jolly looks like she's running off course.'

Killian squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath before turning toward the owner of the voice, young Henry himself. The boys eyes darted between his mother and the pirate and - even though he knew how perceptive the lad was, that he was being judged - he couldn't find even a fake smile to present to him. 'Right you are, lad,' he said, trying to put a little warmth into his voice but failing miserably. He stepped back up to the wheel, which had been knocked slightly askew when he'd moved to grab Emma, and wrapped his hand and his hook around the spokes, straightening it back into the correct position.

Emma walked up to Henry and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. 'Why don't you see if Mary Margaret needs any help organising lunch, Henry? I'll be along in a minute.'

Henry looked up to where Killian stood at the wheel. 'I'd much rather have more pirate lessons,' he said hopefully, nodding his head pointedly toward the pirate. Killian felt his heart lift a little at the suggestion, momentarily eager to spend some more time with the boy, but then the reality of the situation sank back in and his heart dropped again. What could the lad want with him now that his father was alive? Emma had made that abundantly clear.

Sending a warning look his way, Emma turned Henry around and pushed him gently toward the other end of the ship. 'Later, kid.'

Henry left reluctantly, sending another curious glance up at Killian before disappearing below deck. Emma was on him immediately. 'How dare you treat me like that in front of my son?' she hissed at him.

Rolling his eyes, he turned a little towards her but kept his head forward, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. 'How could I have possibly known that the boy was there? He might find that a tad scarring if he saw the whole show. Go on, Swan, join Henry and enjoy your big happy family,' he said sarcastically. 'I got you Henry back, I've found you a way home, and now that your lover's alive it's clear that you've got no use left for me.'

From the way she stiffened he thought that she was going to hit him, but her fists stayed clenched at her sides. 'Just leave us alone, Hook,' she said quietly, the warning clear in her voice. She moved back and he waited until she had turned before he let himself look at her.

Gods, how did she do this to him? He almost felt sick from the way his emotions kept jumping back and forth. Just before she took the first step down to the main deck, he spoke without thinking. 'What can he do for you that I can't?'

There was no innuendo behind his words, no sexual intent, and he could tell by the way that her shoulders slumped and her head dropped that she knew his meaning was deeper than that. Had his voice sounded as desperate to her as it had to him? He hadn't had a reason to hate the vulnerability she'd inspired in him before.

Slowly, she turned around to face him, squaring her shoulders but keeping her distance. For a few very long seconds they just stared at each other. 'Neal is safe for us,' she said eventually, her arms coming across her body so her hands gripped the opposite elbow.

He narrowed his eyes at her, his lip twisting in confusion. 'And I can't keep you safe?'

'That's not what I -' she began quietly, as if to herself, then stopped. Running her fingers through her hair, she looked... defeated. 'Not in the way I need,' she said instead before turning and almost running down the steps, disappearing from sight before he could respond.

All he could think was,  _What the bloody hell was that supposed to mean?_


	4. Chapter 4

_Was it really too much to ask for some peace and quiet?_

Trying to ignore the knocking at the door to the crew's cabin, Emma rolled over and pressed her face hard into the pillow. They'd dropped anchor for the morning, needing to go ashore for a last supply run before they approached Tinkerbell for a portal home. Every other time she had looked forward to a chance to be able to walk more than a few metres without having to turn around, but today she'd begged a sore stomach and asked Mulan to go in her place. They never set foot on the island unless they were in pairs, and she couldn't really request a new partner without someone questioning her.

Time alone with Hook was probably not best for either of them right now.

The door opened with a creak and she heard quiet footsteps as someone edged into the room. 'Emma?' came Neal's voice. 'Are you awake?'

She considered ignoring him but felt guilty immediately and discarded the idea. Taking as deep a breath as she could through the pillow, Emma rolled onto her side to face the door, having to shift a little on the narrow bunk. 'I'm awake.'

Neal took a few hesitant steps into the room then strode over to her bunk. She sat up and brought her knees up to her chest so he'd have room to sit. As he sat down he smiled at her and put his hand on her knee. 'Feeling any better?'

She just shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. Her sore stomach was a ruse, but all the thoughts circling in her head were enough to make her feel truly queasy. He was still looking at her, concern in his eyes, so she smiled at him reassuringly. 'I'm getting there,' she told him. 'I thought you were spending time with Henry?'

Now he started looking as uncomfortable as she felt. 'Yeah, well. I let him go ashore.'

The panic that filled her was instant, chilling her to the core. 'You what? Are you insane?'

She moved to push him away and get up, but his grip on her knee tightened and his other hand grasped her arm, holding her still. 'Hey, take it easy. He's with Regina and Mary Margaret. I know that Regina doesn't have the greatest track record but you know she'd never let anything happen to Henry. And Mary Margaret's keeping an eye on her.'

Emma sat back against the wall and willed herself to relax. Neal released her arm but left his hand on her leg as before. As cautious as she felt about Regina, she knew that she could be trusted with Henry's safety, and Mary Margaret would stop her from trying to steal him away from her. The two of them had seemed to come to a bit of an understanding when it came to Henry over the last few weeks: they were both willing to compromise as long as he was safe.

'You're right, sorry,' she said, taking a deep breath to steady herself, but paused when something else struck her. 'Why are Regina and Mary Margaret on the island? I thought' -  _Killian -_  'Hook and Mulan were going.'

'Yes, about that, too.' He looked down at his hand, which had started rubbing gently at her knee through her pants. 'I asked your mother to convince them that it was a good idea for them all to go since they'd collect more, and faster, so we could all get home quicker.'

'They're all on the island?' she asked slowly. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't heard anyone else in a while now, but that didn't mean they weren't just being quiet.

'Yeah.' He was looking at her with a strange expression, one which she couldn't quite place. 'I thought we could do with some time to, you know, talk.'

'Talk?'  _Oh, great._  The whole point of her hiding away was to avoid this. She knew with all her heart that she wanted what was best for Henry, and having his parents together was surely the right thing. She knew he loved her, and she felt... something. She had no doubt that she'd loved him all those years ago, and she still cared about him. She must still love him if she'd told him so before he fell through the portal, right?

'Yeah, talk,' he said, but in the next moment he brought his hand up to the back her neck and pulled her forward, leaning in to press his lips against hers. Her first reaction was to pull away, but after a moment she let herself relax into it. This was what she wanted, wasn't it?

Neal's other arm came around her waist, shifting them so that their bodies were pressed together. He held her firmly, kissing her confidently. Wrapping her arms around him, she let him push her back onto her narrow cot so that he rested above her, deepening the kiss. He felt like a really bizarre combination of familiar and new. She hadn't let him kiss her properly since that day on the beach, having made excuses to be either alone or surrounded by others. At first she'd been too shocked to really comprehend what she was thinking - who was she kidding, she still had no clue what she was thinking. And then after that fight with Killian, or whatever that was...

Startled, Emma tightened her grip on Neal and kissed him back with the same fierceness with which she pushed away her thoughts of Hook. She could admit to herself that she didn't quite know what she was doing, but she couldn't let those thoughts invade her while she was being kissed so passionately.

She pulled away to catch her breath, but Neal had other ideas. His mouth went to her neck, groaning softly as he kissed her skin. Emma felt a moment of panic before she realised that the fading mark Killian had left on her skin during their... fight... was at the base of the other side of her neck and still hidden by her clothes.  _Get a grip, Emma!_

If Neal noticed how she kept stiffening, he must have attributed it to his own efforts. Kissing his way back up her neck, he took her mouth again with his and ground his hips against hers so that she could feel him hard through their clothes. She gripped onto his arms tightly, not really knowing what to do with herself.

He moved lower again, this time shifting down the cot awkwardly in the confined space. Propping herself up onto her elbows to see what he was doing, she watched him pull the top of her pants down slightly and begin to fiddle with the buttons.

No.

This wasn't right. This was  _wrong._

'Wait,' she said lowly, unable to look at him as she pulled her legs out from underneath him and scooted back on the bed so that she was pressed into the corner, as far away from him as possible in her embarrassment.

Out of the corner of her eye, Emma saw Neal push himself back onto his knees, and she thought she caught a mixture of confusion and concern on his face. 'Emma, what -?'

'I just... I'm still not feeling well.' Raising a hand, she stared at it for a moment, surprised to find it shaking, before pressing it to her temple. 'My head is killing me.'

Neal moved closer to her on the bed, taking her other hand and wrapping it in both of his own. 'I thought it was your stomach?'

Finally looking up at him, she did her best to school her expression. She felt so flustered. 'It is. But now my heads pounding.' Grasping a hold of an idea desperately, she took her hand back and ran it through her hair. 'I think I just need some air.'

She pushed herself off of the bed but before she could get very far he was by her side, taking her elbow as if to help her. 'Ok, let's just -'

'No, it's fine,' she said, trying hard not to snap. She felt all of her confusion as a pressure on her chest, and knew it wouldn't be long before it spilled out. She couldn't let him see that, couldn't let him have any clue that there might be something going on in her head that meant she wasn't happy. Taking a deep breath, she turned to look up at him. She held his gaze for barely half a second before the sting that the tenderness in his eyes caused made her look away. 'You should get some sleep while you can if we're going to travel through the night again,' she said quietly.

He cupped her cheek in his hand before pressing his lips to her forehead. 'Okay, Ems. If you want to lie down again don't worry that you'll disturb me. And if you need anything just let me know.'

Nodding, she gave his arm a squeeze before leaving the crew's cabin, closing the door quietly behind her. Struggling to keep herself calm, she counted her steps as she made her way quickly above deck.

The fresh air felt like heaven to her lungs. She went to the edge of the ship and sat on the rail, twisting around and sitting so that her legs dangled over the side. Staring out at the horizon, she focused just on controlling her breathing.

She stayed like that for what must have been a good few hours. Once she felt in control of her body her mind went to work, going back to the crazy circle of confusion that had been plaguing her for days. Eventually, though, even that hazed out and she started feeling numb.

The sounds of people climbing over the opposite side of the ship brought her out of her reverie a little, but she kept her eyes looking out over the water. She heard Henry's voice and Regina's, and the sound of footsteps back and forth across the deck. A few minutes later there were two new sets of footsteps but neither of them spoke, and Emma tried to distract herself by trying to figure out who they belonged to without looking. Those light steps could only have belonged to either Mulan or Mary Margaret, and although she had learned recently just how light her mother could be on her feet, she would place her bet on Mulan. The other was obvious, the clunk of a cane coming after every other step.

She heard the last group climb over the side and heard whispers but no clear voices. After a few seconds she felt a soft hand gently grasp her upper arm. 'Emma?'

Emma turned her head and looked up at her mother. Mary Margaret smiled down at her, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Emma had a feeling that her returned smile was much the same. 'Hi.'

Mary Margaret propped herself up on the ledge and spun her legs around so she sat beside Emma, their legs touching. 'So I gather Neal's plan backfired?'

For a moment Emma felt annoyed and was going to respond sharply, but she caught herself before she spoke. Her irritation came from elsewhere, and she shouldn't spread it. 'Pretty much. I can't imagine he would have felt comfortable asking you for help. Sorry that you got caught up in it.'

The other woman shook her head. 'Don't be silly. Although he's not the only person asking for my help,' she said lightly.

Emma frowned at her. She looked around quickly and saw that they were alone. 'What are you talking about?'

'Don't worry, everyone else is below deck,' Mary Margaret said, apparently reading her thoughts. 'I'm talking about the look on Hook's face when we came onto the deck and he saw you sitting here. He actually grabbed me,' she said, sounding surprised. 'He asked what the hell you were doing sitting precariously on the ledge here. So  _I_ told him that I couldn't possibly know that since I'd came aboard about ten seconds before he had, and that I was pretty sure that you could balance yourself well enough not to fall off,' she finished dryly.

There was that pang in her heart again. 'What did he say?' she asked quietly.

She was silent for a few seconds. 'He asked me whether I thought you were upset and if I would make sure you're okay.'

 _He was worried about her._  Letting out the breath that she hadn't realised she'd been holding, Emma reluctantly met her mother's eyes. 'I'm fine.'

Mary Margaret raised her eyebrows at her knowingly. 'You don't have to hide behind that wall with me, Emma. I understand if you don't want to talk to me about it, but I'm not the only person who's noticed that something's... odd. Something makes me think that it's not a coincidence that Hook went from being cocky and, I don't know, cheerful, to being almost as dark and bitter as I've seen him since Neal and Mulan found us. And you haven't really seemed over the moon to have him around.'

'How could I not be happy that Henry's father's alive?' she asked automatically. Was it really that noticeable or was Mary Margaret just clued onto her since they'd lived together?

Mary Margaret shook her head. 'I know you're happy he's alive, Emma, for Henry and just in general. But there's no way that you're as eager as he is to be reunited, and I think it has something to do with Hook. Am I wrong?'

Did she bear her heart, or did she close it up? After the last few days, Emma was tired of hiding. 'Did you know before this?'

The smile on Mary Margaret's face was enough. 'I suspected. Before we found Henry I wouldn't have been able to tell from how you acted, you were so focused on finding him. But I saw the way Hook looked at you, and his flirting with you changed. Somehow more and less at the same time, like he wasn't trying so hard but felt more sure of himself. And after we had Henry back, it was like you let the rest of you catch up to your heart. The looks you gave him almost mirrored his own. I know you were happy to have Henry back, obviously, but you seemed happy when you looked at him, too.' Mary Margaret took her hand and threaded their fingers together. 'Until a few days ago.'

Taking a deep breath, Emma let it out slowly. Here goes nothing. 'I didn't want it to mean anything,' she said quietly. 'I felt so lost, so hopeless, and it was just for comfort. To forget. He was struggling as well, with having Gold on his ship and having to work with him. We both needed a distraction.'

'So you found comfort in each other,' Mary Margaret said, nodding thoughtfully. 'And what happened when you didn't need that comfort anymore?'

Biting her lip, Emma looked back out at the water. 'The last time, after I had Henry back, it wasn't about comfort. It was... just... about us,' she finished simply, not really sure how to say what she meant.

Mary Margaret seemed to understand. 'And then Neal turned up.'

'And then Neal turned up.'

Emma looked back at her to see her looking at her strangely. 'Before we left Storybrooke you were going to some pretty serious efforts to convince me that you didn't have any feelings for him,' Mary Margaret said.

That felt like a lifetime ago. 'To be honest, I didn't really have a clue what was going through my head. I really didn't like him with Tamara, but I was right not to trust her,' she pointed out. She grinned for a moment, but the grin quickly fell from her face. 'Before Neal fell through the portal, Neal and I told each other that we loved each other.'

Mary Margaret was silent for a moment. 'Well that would explain his reaction when he found us.' She cocked her head to the side. 'Tell me, was it a caring, intimate "I love you" before any of the drama happened? Or a hectic "I don't want you to die and I haven't figured out what I'm feeling so I'd better tell you that I love you so that you don't die thinking you're all alone since your fiancé just shot you" type of "I love you"?'

Emma narrowed her eyes at Mary Margaret, who looked like she was trying to keep a smile off her face. 'It wasn't a sappy intimate thing, with rainbows and unicorns,' she said dryly, 'but it wasn't a pity thing. I was holding onto him when he was being sucked through the portal.' Suddenly feeling very tired, she spun her legs back over the side and lowered herself to sit on the deck, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. 'I thought I needed him,' she said quietly, remembering how she'd felt having Neal back in her life in Storybrooke. 'He broke my heart so terribly that I never really trusted anybody until I met Henry, and when Neal popped up I felt a bit like I had when I knew him. And that felt good for a while, because I was so much in love with him back then. But our lives weren't good. I don't want to be the person that I was when I was in love with him. And I don't think I was really in love with him when he fell through the portal,' she admitted reluctantly. 'I don't think I'm in love with him now.'

Mary Margaret joined her on the deck, running her fingers through her wind-swept hair to straighten it a little. 'It's okay to say something in the heat of the moment sometimes, Emma, and end up not meaning it as much as you thought you did. Whether you truly love him or not, he affected your life. He gave you a son.'

'And now it's Henry that I have to think of. I know he wants his parents to be together.'

Mary Margaret made an impatient noise that sounded odd coming from her. 'Come on, Emma! Just because Henry wants you to be with Neal doesn't mean that you have to be! He's just happy to finally have both of his parents in his life. You can't blame him for having a bit of a romanticised view of relationships after growing up around all of these fairy tales, but he's not going to be heartbroken if it doesn't end up that way. What about what's best for you?'

She almost sounded like Killian. Emma opened her mouth to speak but snapped it shut when she saw movement coming from the stairs that led below deck. A lump rose in the back of her throat as Killian came above deck, taking a few steps before turning his head slightly to look her way almost reluctantly. When their eyes met he stopped completely and... just looked at her.

'Oh, Emma,' she heard quietly from beside her.

She felt frozen, caught in his gaze. Her stomach felt tight all of a sudden, like she was as sick as she'd claimed to be earlier. He looked pretty much how she felt right now, trying to keep his face straight but a hint of desperation breaking through. She felt her skin pebble with goose bumps despite the warmness of the early afternoon.

David, who had been just behind Killian, stopped beside him and put his hand on Killian's back, leaning in so his head was right beside his. Killian didn't look away from her as David spoke to him quietly, words that Emma couldn't quite make out. After a few seconds he turned away and the two of them walked toward the other end of the ship, David casting a searching look over his shoulder.

The second that Killian looked away, Emma took a deep breath and let her head fall back against the side of the ship, not caring for the dull thump that sounded. That look on his face... it felt almost as destroying as how he'd looked the last time they'd spoken. 'I told him that I told Neal I loved him,' she admitted, speaking quietly so that her voice wouldn't carry to the men and closing her eyes like she could block out the world.

'Oh, Emma,' she heard Mary Margaret say again, just as softly. 'No wonder he's been so cold lately. Why did you tell him that if you don't feel it now?'

Opening her eyes, she tried to focus very firmly on the wood of the opposite side of the ship, trying to ignore the sounds of the two men moving about the ship, apparently getting it ready to sail. 'Because I have to give this thing with Neal a shot. Maybe he is what's best for me. Being with Neal is safe.' She thought back to when she'd said that to Killian, and how he'd thought that she meant physically safe. 'I know that he loves me, and I know he already loves Henry. Now that he's in his life he won't leave him. He won't leave us.'

Mary Margaret was looking at her doubtfully. 'How is Neal so safe when he abandoned you twelve years ago? He had you  _arrested_ , Emma! I know that everyone's changed and grown up since then but seriously, you can't base this decision on this with Neal's track record.'

'There is no decision,' she said firmly.

'And even if we ignore the past, I know that the whole reason Neal left you was so you could break the curse, and August told me that he contacted Neal when the curse was broken. He chose to stay with Tamara.'

'They were engaged,' Emma pointed out.

Mary Margaret just kept ignoring her. 'I understand that he's in love with you, but he's never  _fought_  for you. Hook, on the other hand...'

'What?'

'He came back to help us,' she said simply. 'To help you. When he turned his ship around, he thought that Storybrooke was in the process of being ripped to pieces. Even when he found out that he'd have to travel back to Neverland with the man he'd spent hundreds of years wanting to kill, he never hesitated to help you. We never could have done this without him.'

Emma let herself look up toward the back of the ship, where David was helping Killian unfurl the sails. She never thought she'd see the two of them working together so easily. 'Yeah right, cause Captain bloody Hook is so safe for us,' she grumbled.

Mary Margaret's light laughter surprised her and she turned back to the other woman, eyebrows raised. Her mother was also looking at the men, smiling fondly at her husband. 'Oh, honey,' she said warmly. 'I don't think there's anyone safer. The only thing that comes close to describing the way he looks at you,' she turned her head and looked earnestly at Emma, 'is the way Charming looks at me.'

Why was everything Mary Margaret was saying just making her feel worse? Wasn't talking to your mother about your feelings supposed to make you feel better? Maybe twenty eight years was too late. 'I thought you didn't even like him,' she complained gloomily. 'Why are you suddenly on his team?'

'Because he's not the man we first met in the Enchanted Forest, Emma.' Mary Margaret turned her head thoughtfully, eyeing the pirate. 'Well, perhaps he is, but he's more Killian Jones than Captain Hook, especially when he's around you. He's more than proved himself in my eyes since we've been here. Even David's warming to him,' she said, smiling. After a moment the smile faded. 'And besides all that... I don't think Neal can make you as happy as you deserve to be.'

That was why talking to your mother was supposed to help, Emma realised. It wasn't about making you feel better about your situation, it was about someone reminding you that you were worth something. Feeling heavy, she rested her head on Mary Margaret's shoulder and leaned into her as her mother's arm went around her shoulders. 'Can you really see Hook settling down in Storybrooke?' she asked, voicing yet another one of her reasons why Killian couldn't be a factor.

'Not really, but I think he'd do it if it meant being with you,' Mary Margaret offered slowly. 'But I could see him settling down in the Enchanted Forest. I know that we haven't really talked about it,' she said hurriedly when Emma went to interrupt her, 'but I don't know if David and I can leave our home the way it is. There's still people there,  _our people_ , who we have a duty to help, and I know that a lot of people in Storybrooke want to go home too. Plus you know how much Henry wants to grow up as a prince.'

They both smiled at that. Henry was truly in his element surrounded by all these fairy tale heroes, and if he didn't get to grow up to be one too he would be devastated. 'I don't know if I'm ready to give up the real world,' she said reluctantly.

'The Enchanted Forest is just as real as the world you grew up in,' Mary Margaret pointed out. 'And what do you really have to hold you to that one?'

They fell into silence for a while. Emma alternated between trying to keep her eyes on anything but the pirate, and trying to sneak glimpses of him out of the corner of her eye. Was he really as miserable as Mary Margaret had suggested? She tried to convince herself that it shouldn't matter, that it was no business of hers anymore by her own choosing. She appreciated Mary Margaret trying to help her, but she couldn't let her change her mind. She had to give herself a chance with Neal, to give herself and Henry a chance at a proper family.

'There's probably something else you should know,' Mary Margaret said, bringing Emma out of her thoughts. She straightened up and let her mother's arm fall away from her shoulders, stretching a little to ease the sore muscles caused by the hard deck. 'Mulan also came to me for some advice.'

Emma frowned at her. Was this a new topic? 'What for?'

Mary Margaret paused, seeming to choose her words carefully. 'I assume Neal's told you that it was Mulan, along with Aurora and Phillip, who found Neal after he came through the portal. He was injured and near death, unconscious, and the three of them nursed him back to health. It seems that our warrior friend has developed some feelings of her own for Neal in the process. She told me that she didn't know whether to confess her feelings to him or to you, or at all, especially since he's been reunited with you. She wasn't sure of the honourable path to take.'

Emma stared at her blankly. ' _Mulan_  is in love with Neal?' She couldn't help it, she laughed aloud.

The sound of her laughter must have captured the men's attention, as they both paused in their actions and looked up at the same time. Emma quickly looked away, not wanting to catch Killian's gaze again, but she could feel his eyes on her. 'God, this fairytale life just keeps getting more and more far fetched.' If someone had told her a year ago that Disney princess Mulan would fall in love with her ex-boyfriend (who was the son of Rumpelstiltskin) she'd have directed them to the psych ward.

Mary Margaret was looking at her searchingly. 'Are you jealous?'

'No, why would I -' She stopped, narrowing her eyes. 'Wait a second. Are you testing me?'

She didn't even have the grace to look embarrassed. 'That's beside the point. If a friend was in love with David, I wouldn't be too happy about it. She did actually tell me that, though.' She grasped her hand again. 'I'll stop trying to convince you. Just know that as much as I'm your mother now, I'm still your friend. All I want is what's best for you. For you, and your heart.'

Emma squeezed her hand. 'Thank you,' she sighed. If nothing else, at least she had her parents, and Henry.


	5. Chapter 5

'Are we ready, mates?'

Killian didn't wait for a response, sure that he wouldn't get more than an eye roll anyway, before spinning the wheel hard to turn the Jolly Roger toward the swirling vacuum of water that was the portal. As much as the idea terrified him - yes, their destination was being guided, but with magic he had learnt there were never any true guarantees - it thrilled him just as much. The adventure was just about as strong as you could get, and he loved how it felt when his stomach dropped as the ship did, knowing that it would come out in one piece on the other side.

Casting one last glance around at his crew to make sure that they were secure, he tightened his grip on the wheel and closed his eyes.

He'd done this more than a few times and had learnt to recognize the moment when his surroundings changed from one world to the next. Along with the strange sizzle in the air that he'd realized was apparent in a realm that held magic, he felt the temperature drop, quickly and drastically. The weather was normally stormy to start with when coming out the other end of a portal, but this felt stronger. The Jolly heaved this way and that, creaking loudly in protest at the sudden change in conditions.

'David!'

Spinning his head, Killian's eyes darted toward the direction of the shriek and found Emma and Snow White holding onto the rigging on the port side, staring over the edge, Regina standing nearby. 'What happened?' He shouted as loudly as he could, trying to make his voice audible over the sound of the waves and wind.

Snow was too busy searching the water for her husband to react to him, but Emma turned and looked up at him desperately. He felt his heart lurch much like his stomach just had, but in a much more unpleasant way; with that look on her face, there was nothing he wouldn't do for her. 'David went over!' He saw rather than heard the words that came from her lips.

The waves weren't quietening as quickly as he'd expected and for a moment he was afraid the ship would tilt too far. Spinning the wheel hard to compensate, he realized with dread that he couldn't leave the helm. 'Baelfire?' he roared. 'Drop the anchor!'

Dropping the anchor in a storm as bad as this was a risk, but Killian hoped that the worst of the weather was the aftermath of the portal and would calm down at any moment. If he didn't at least try it, who knew how far away from David the wind would take them? 'Can you see him?' he yelled, looking around for Baelfire.  _Where the bloody hell was he?_

'Yes,' he heard, but couldn't tell who the voice belonged to. Finally, Baelfire came into view, running and slipping on the wet surface of the deck. Grasping onto a nearby rope, he fiddled with the clasps holding the thick chain into place.

What was taking him so long? Killian gripped onto the spokes of the wheel, his knuckles white. 'Baelfire!' he shouted.

'It's jammed,' Baelfire yelled back at him, glancing over his shoulder first at Killian and then at Emma before turning back to the anchor.

Feeling torn, Killian hesitated for a few seconds before he locked the wheel in place, cursing violently. What else could go wrong? Leaving the helm reluctantly, he jumped the stairs down to the main deck, blinking hard to try and keep the water out of his eyes. Before he'd taken a further two steps Baelfire managed to finally get the clasp open and he heard the clank of the heavy chain unrolling with relief. 'Got it!' Baelfire yelled triumphantly.

Relief quickly vanished when he realized what was happening on the other side of the deck. Hearing raised voices, he turned to see Emma knotting a rope firmly around her waist. 'I won't lose my family when I've only just found it,' she shouted to Snow and Regina.

Snow grabbed Emma's arm and the two of them shared a look before Snow nodded and stepped back, taking the other end of the rope and holding it out for Regina to take a hold of as well.

She was going in after him, he realized with horror. 'Emma, no!' he roared, reaching out to stop her as she hoisted herself up onto the ledge. She looked back at him for a second, nothing but determination on her face, before turning and jumping over the edge.

He was at the side in an instant, standing beside Snow and Regina who were holding onto the rope tightly. His eyes swept the water desperately, trying to make out either David or Emma amongst the choppy water. After a moment Baelfire was beside him, Rumpelstiltskin just a step behind.

The next few minutes felt like the longest in Killian's life, watching Emma come in and out of sight as she fought her way to her father. Finally the weather started to calm, the wind fading to that of a normally windy day at sea, the waves calmer but still of a reasonable size. At least he need not fear capsizing. He could see Emma and David not too far away and his fear subsided slightly. She had untied the rope from her own waist and was retying it around David's chest, underneath his arms. 'Thank god,' Snow sighed beside him, and the fact that he could actually hear her was a good sign.

But something wasn't right. David didn't seem to be moving much to help Emma, and even Emma's movements seemed sluggish. Every time a wave hit them Emma's reaction seemed slower, and most were taking her under for seconds at a time. The exertion of swimming in the stormy water had drained her too much. The next wave came, and he held his breath with her for almost thirty seconds before she came up spluttering, a little further away from David and no longer holding onto either him or the rope.

She was going to drown.

Without giving himself a chance to consider any other option, Killian quickly shrugged out of his jacket and snagged another rope with his hook, deftly tying it around his waist one-handed. 'Hook?' Snow asked him cautiously.

'She needs help,' he said curtly, testing the knot quickly.

'Let me,' Baelfire said, grabbing at his arm.

Suppressing a snarl, Killian shrugged him off a lot gentler than he wanted to. 'I need you to hold the other end of this,' he managed, shoving the other end of the rope into his hands. Baelfire stared at it for a moment before wrapping it around his shoulder and arm, and bracing himself against the side of the ship.

Unable to wait any longer, Killian hoisted himself up onto the ledge and, taking note of where Emma was now, launched himself into the ocean. The freezing water took the breath out of him momentarily, but too many years at sea to count had made him pretty good at adapting quickly to the cold. Brushing aside the shock, he caught sight of her quickly and started in her direction.

It took him longer than he'd wished to reach her. He swam past David and paused to check that he was breathing, but the prince was conscious and waved him on, gasping at him to save his daughter. Not needing to be told twice, he pushed on. After a few minutes he reached the spot where he'd last seen her and looked around wildly, spinning as quickly as he could to try and see everywhere at once.

A larger wave threatened to take him under and he didn't fight it, letting it pull him down. Forcing his eyes open and trying to ignore the stinging of the salt water, he finally saw her.

Was she moving, or was that the current?

Not letting himself think on that, he reached her quickly, wrapping his left arm around her waist and pulling her against him, kicking them toward the surface as his lungs already started protesting. He ached to check that she was all right, but knew that neither of them would make it if he stopped now.

Finally they broke the surface and Killian gulped in air desperately, at the same time pushing Emma's hair out of her face so that he could see her. Coughing and gasping for air, she clutched at his shoulder feebly, no strength to her grip at all. Feeling exhausted with relief, he pulled her closer to him, wrapping both arms around her waist and feeling her arms go around his neck. 'Gods, Emma, what were you thinking?' he rasped at her, not caring who saw what from the ship, almost unable to believe that she was all right.

'Later,' she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder, but she didn't let go straight away. When she did, she kept her arm around his neck. 'Where's David? I couldn't hold on...'

She sounded so defeated, so drained. Feeling a tugging at his waist, he looked up to see David being pulled over the side of the ship. Someone was reeling them in. 'He's fine,' he told her. 'Can you hold on?' he asked, cupping her cheek and turning her face to his.

'Mmm,' she sighed, laying her head back against his shoulder. Tightening his grip around her, he closed his eyes and pressed his face to her wet hair, letting them pull them slowly towards the ship.

Foolish woman. He knew why she'd done it, and although he was angry at her, he couldn't really see any other plan of action. She could have taken another rope to tie to David, keeping hers on, but he more than understood the urgency she'd have felt to help him. He knew that despite whatever bizarre relationship she had with her similarly-aged parents, she loved them dearly, and if she hadn't jumped in after Prince Charming then he probably would have bloody done so himself, unwilling to let her go through losing her family again. It was a miracle that they were all still alive.

He felt his back bump against the hull of the ship and twisted his neck up to see Snow leaning out over the edge. 'Can you pull us both up?' he yelled. He didn't think she'd make it up on her own.

Feeling a sharp tug at the rope in answer, he wrapped it quickly around each of his thighs so that it functioned almost like a seat, and around his arm to keep himself upright before readjusting his grip on Emma. Keeping his left arm around her back, he checked her arms around his neck before moving his other arm underneath her knees, holding her as tightly against him as he could. It seemed that she'd passed out, but he could feel her breath against his neck, and the stupid selfish part of him that didn't care about the danger wished that this moment could last forever.

What the hell had she done to him? The only way he could get her into his arms anymore was with the risk of her life, and that was enough for him? Not even close, but he'd take what little he could from her, and hated himself for it. He should be angry with her, was angry with her for the stupid decision she'd made with her half-hearted excuses, but as much as he tried, he couldn't hate her.

 _Heave, pause, breath. Heave, pause, breath._  He couldn't image they were a light load, waterlogged as they were, even if everyone up there was helping.

_Heave, pause, breath. Heave, pause. Heave, pause._

_Wait._

'Emma,' he whispered, his heart suddenly in his throat. She might have just turned her head away from him, but he hadn't felt her move. 'Emma?' he said, louder this time. He shook her gently, terrified of dropping her and anxious for a look at her face. Her head fell back and he stared at her searchingly. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted.

Her chest wasn't moving.

Cursing, he looked up and saw he was almost at the top of the side of the ship. 'Hurry!' he yelled, feeling helpless and panicked.

He couldn't lose her.

Hands were reaching down to him and, struggling a little for strength after holding onto her, he lifted Emma up to be taken first before grabbing onto the rail and pulling himself over. He hit the deck hard but rolled onto his side and forced himself up immediately. Snow and Baelfire were lying her down on the deck.

'She's not breathing,' he gasped out as he reached them.

'Mom?'

 _Shit._  Snow looked up at Killian sharply before falling to her knees beside Emma. 'Neal, keep Henry away,' she ordered quickly.

'But -' Baelfire sounded as broken as he felt.

'Look after your child,' she snapped.

Killian dropped to his knees beside Snow, not paying attention as Baelfire backed off, wrapping his arms around Henry and turning the lad away. He titled her head back and held his ear above her lips, checking once more for breath. Had it been too long?

Pinching her nose closed with his thumb and forefinger, he took a deep breath and lowered his mouth over hers, forcing the breath into her lungs. Pulling back, he let the air leave her as he sucked in another breath and repeated the process. Once more, then he sat back, giving Snow room to lean over Emma and, putting one hand over the other, began pumping at her chest.

Killian didn't pay attention to her timing, instead watching Emma's face intently until Snow leaned back and then he was breathing into her again. With still no response, he leaned back but kept his hand on her cheek, willing her to open her eyes.  _Come on, you insufferable woman,_  he thought at her.  _You can't leave me now. We're on our way home, we got your son back, together. You can't leave him. You can't leave me._ He could hear Henry crying.

Another set of compressions, and when he lowered his mouth to hers again he put everything into his wish for her to wake up.  _Don't you get it, Swan? You might not need me anymore but I'll never stop needing you. You woke up the part of me that I thought was long dead, that I never thought I'd see again. I can't be that person if you're not here. Dammit, Emma, I love you._

Suddenly there was movement beneath him, and he pulled back quickly to see Emma's eyes fly open. She gasped in a breath of her own and then she was coughing, so he reached past Snow and rolled her onto her side away from them. He grabbed her right leg with his good hand and brought her knee up to stop her from rolling too far, his hook pulling her wet hair out of her way as she coughed up seawater. Snow quickly moved around to her other side as Killian brought his hand up to her chest, trying to support her.

Snow's eyes met his over Emma, and the relief in her eyes surely mirrored his own. He wondered if she felt as overwhelmed as he did? Tears streaked her cheeks, and Killian tried to tell himself that it was the salty water that were making his eyes sting, but when he thought how close he'd come to losing her, he knew he certainly wasn't fooling himself.

His attention was back to Emma immediately as she reached up and grabbed his hand, holding it tightly against her chest as she fought to stop coughing so that she could take some air in. He bent closer to her, helping her sit up slightly, her back resting against his chest. 'Come on, darling, breathe for me, that's the way.' His eyes caught Snow's again, and he knew he wasn't fooling her either.

'Mom!' Henry was by their side in an instant.

'Careful, lad,' Killian warned quickly, but the boy was gentler than his speed had suggested, falling to his knees beside them and wrapping his arms around Emma, one arm coming around Killian's waist too. Emma's free arm came up to hug Henry to her, but she kept Killian's hand firmly in hers, their fingers twisted together almost painfully, and he wouldn't let go before she did. Letting himself sink into his relief, he wrapped his left arm around Emma and Henry, holding the three of them together, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his face against Emma's hair.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he looked up to see Snow staring down at him, nodding her head very slightly to indicate that he should stand. He looked back at Emma and Henry, unwilling to move from them now that she was in his arms and safe. He'd never let her go if that was what it took. But he felt eyes on him and reluctantly pulled himself to his feet, his heart pulling when Emma didn't let go of his hand straight away.

'Thank you for saving them, Hook,' Snow said, and as he turned to look at her he had a feeling that she was up to something. Her words sounded too deliberate. 'Will you come with me to check on Charming?'

Why would she need help with that? He hadn't even realized David wasn't on deck, and neither was Rumpelstiltskin. Frowning, he turned back to Emma and Snow grabbed at his arm, but not before he saw Baelfire taking his place and wrapping her arms around Emma and Henry. He opened his mouth to say something - he didn't know what, or to whom - but Snow got in before he could speak. 'Please, Hook?' she said, her voice low.

Narrowing his eyes at her suspiciously, he followed her slowly below deck, knowing that the second he'd moved away from Emma his time with her had been over again. 'What are you doing?' he asked her once the others were out of sight.

After a few steps she stopped and turned to look at him. 'I really am grateful,' she said pointedly. 'I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost both of them.'

'Anybody would have -'

'Yes, but you did,' she interrupted. 'And I thank you.'

He shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say. She stepped closer to him, the same look of determination on her face that he often saw on Emma's. 'You need to give her space, Hook.'

He considered denying knowledge of what she was talking about, but thought better of it when she raised her eyebrow at him. Clearly Emma had spoken to her mother about him. 'You needn't fear, milady,' he said to her dryly. 'Your daughter has made her wishes abundantly clear. I don't expect to have any further part in her life now that her true love has returned.' He didn't try to keep the bitterness from his words.

'What happened out there -'

'Changes nothing,' he told her firmly. Except for his realization of just how far he'd fallen, but he knew that would mean nothing to Emma. Not anymore, if it had at all. 'I don't know what she told you, but trust me, love, she wants nothing to do with me.'

Snow shook her head at him. 'Emma doesn't know what she wants, except to be a good parent to Henry. That's all she's trying to do.'

'And the gods forbid that I dare to stand in her way,' he said, pointedly nodding his head to where she stood in front of him, blocking his way down the hall and to his cabin.

After a long moment's hesitation, Snow stepped to the side. 'Just give her some time to figure this out.'

Killian stepped up to her, bending his head to her ear. 'It looks like she's got everything figured out just fine from where I'm standing,' he said softly, backing away slowly before turning and heading toward his cabin. He felt Snow's eyes following him but didn't look back at her.

Slamming his door behind him, he leaned back against it, closing his eyes and squeezing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He hadn't wanted to put on his menacing face to Snow, not after all they'd been through together in Neverland, but he couldn't control the bitterness that was swelling inside of him. He didn't understand this combination of vicious jealousy and such an earth-shattering relief. If Emma had died today...

But she hadn't. And for those few minutes after she'd awoken, he'd held her trembling in his arms, and he'd had everything he'd needed. The fact that it hadn't been real was eating at him horribly, just like the knowledge that he'd just been a stand in for her.

_The way she'd held onto him in the water... The way she'd gripped at his hand..._

She'd been in shock. She'd been holding onto him for support. To think anything different would just be setting himself up for more pain.

_Surely it couldn't get any worse than this._

Pushing himself away from the door, he picked up the almost full bottle of rum from his desk and took a long swig, relishing the familiar burn in his throat. Settling the bottle down, he deftly unhooked the clasps on his vest, pulling it over his shoulders and then his shirt over his head. Throwing the wet material into a corner, he sat in the chair beside his desk, tugging his boots off. Sighing deeply, he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.

Gods, he was tired.

He despised men like himself, pining after a woman who didn't want him. Although the last few days had been a personal hell for him, he'd been blessed with sailing the ship with alternating ships to Baelfire, so although he'd seen Emma on deck and had had to converse with Baelfire briefly a few times a day, he'd managed to avoid seeing them together.

He knew they'd been together. Snow had been the one to suggest they all go ashore a few days prior, but Killian knew it had been at Baelfire's suggestion. When they'd returned, he'd almost betrayed himself by jumping forward and hauling her away from the edge of the ship, afraid something akin to today's events would occur - he'd had crew fall overboard for simpler things.

The sight of her earlier... it had all but brought him undone. All he wanted was to be there for her. He knew that he could be, that he could make her feel better; he'd breathed her very life back into her today. Just as she'd done to him. All he wanted to do was touch her, to hold her.

He realized that his fist was clenched tightly, his teeth gritted. He didn't know how to deal with all of these contradicting emotions, all of them so bloody intense that one of them alone would have driven him mad. Suddenly anger was at the forefront - anger at Emma for not giving them a chance, for spurning him so easily. Anger at Snow for trying to make excuses for her. At Baelfire for being alive. But mostly anger at himself.

What kind of man wished another man back to the dead?

The same kind of man who wouldn't fight for the woman he loved.

A coward.

Before he could think about what he was doing, he brought his fist hard against his desk, punching the wood repeatedly with all his strength, desperate to relieve some of this pent up...  _everything_  that was struggling inside of him.

Breathing hard, Killian sat back again in the chair, nursing his bloody hand with his hook. After a moment he lowered his hand and lifted his left arm, bringing the hook closer to his eyes. The metal appendage suddenly disgusted him. He'd had a good life before his hand had been taken and the hook, along with the name that had come from it, signified everything dark about him.

Everything that nobody could love.

Twisting it until he heard the click of the release, he pulled it from its holder and tossed it away, paying little attention as it hit the wall of his cabin and fell onto his bed. Standing, he shed the wet leather pants and dropped them on top of the rest of his wet clothes, pulling a towel from his cupboard and drying himself off before pulling out a fresh set of clothes. He pulled on the fresh trousers, struggling a little with just the one hand, before settling himself back at his desk and taking another long swig from the bottle. Maybe if he drunk enough, none of it would matter anymore.  _It wasn't like they needed him to captain the ship,_  he thought darkly,  _they have_ Baelfire _now._  He hated himself for his self pity but he couldn't help it.

When the bottle was empty he got up and retrieved the hook from his bed, staring at it for a minute before clicking it back into place. He may not like the part of him that was Captain Hook right now, but he certainly didn't like how it felt to be Killian Jones either at the moment, and he knew that no matter what, both of them were a part of him.

Halfway through his second bottle, his head swimming pleasantly and reality finally starting to dull, he was brought back to the world by a knock at his cabin door. He suppressed a groan - couldn't they just leave him in peace?

The door opened before he could speak and Baelfire walked quickly into the room, seeing him immediately and sitting down at the other side of the desk without hesitation. 'Come in,' Killian muttered sarcastically under his breath, not in the mood to deal with Baelfire of all people. Pushing his chair back, he crossed the room with deliberate steps, finding a shirt and pulling it over his head. 'What do you want?' he asked roughly, not caring about how harsh he sounded.

Baelfire was silent for a moment. 'They wanted us to set sail straight away, but we decided to stay put for the rest of the day and recuperate. David knocked his head pretty bad.'

Narrowing his eyes, Killian stalked back over to his desk and sat down, leaning forward on his elbows. 'What do you  _want_ , Baelfire?' If he couldn't be looking after Emma, then somebody should be.

The two of them stared at each other, and Baelfire seemed to be weighing his words. 'You know what I want,' he said finally. After another long pause he leaned forward as well, mirroring Killian's position. 'I want to know how long you've been in love with Emma.'

His breathing hitched. 'I -'

'And don't you  _dare_  tell me that you don't know what I'm talking about,' Baelfire said quickly, beating him to it. 'I saw it in every look on your face from when she jumped overboard to save David. I saw the fucking  _tears in your eyes_  when she wasn't responding to your resuscitation. Don't you fucking dare tell me that you don't love her.'

He swallowed his denial, but couldn't find any other words to say. Unable to meet Baelfire's eyes, he looked down at the torn skin of his knuckles, pressing his hook across them in a way that felt both calming from the cool metal and painful from the pressure. He couldn't deny it, not even to himself after today. She had him, well and truly.

'Are you going to take this family from me, too?'

Killian's eyes darted up to meet Baelfire's, and he was surprised to see the anger gone, replaced by the same sort of wretchedness that he felt. This wasn't just about Emma.

This was about Milah.

Everything went out of him, all of his own anger and pain, forced out by the hopelessness coming from the other man. In that moment, there was nothing he regretted more than letting Milah leave her son behind. If she had been that desperate to get away from her life, they should have taken him with them. No matter that it would have been no life for a lad so young; they could have made it work. Their actions had not only lost the boy his mother, but had begun the trail of events that had made Rumpelstiltskin the Dark One, who had abandoned his son.

Killian had taken away Baelfire's parents, and now he thought he was going to take away his woman and his son. 'Baelfire,' he began softly.

'Don't,' Baelfire said, his voice thick.

'Baelfire,' he continued, 'I could  _never_  take Henry away from you. Can't you see how strongly the lad loves? If no one could convince him that Regina was beyond redemption, then no one could keep him away from you now. The lad loves you.'

Baelfire said nothing, simply still looking at him.

Unnerved by his gaze, Killian stood, taking the rum and bringing it to his lips, drinking swiftly as he stepped away from the desk, needing to put some space between the two of them. He opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it and took another drink. 'You needn't have any concern about me, boy. It hardly matters what I feel. She's with you.'

His face didn't change, but his eyes seemed to harden. 'But you do love her.'

'I -'

_'Admit it!'_

'Yes I love her, god damn it!' he snarled, and before he could think further Baelfire was out of his chair and Killian felt the sharp pain of his fist at his jaw. Surprised, he stumbled back with the force of the blow, dropping the bottle and wincing when glass shattered over the floor. Turning away from Baelfire, he brought his hand up to rub at his jaw, feeling an ache from the punch but no sharp pain that felt like a broken bone. When he turned back around, it was to see Baelfire giving him one last hard look before opening the door and storming out, closing the door behind him with a loud thud.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: There are a few things that I need to tell you before you read this chapter. As I think I've said before, I'm only really concerned with what happens affecting Emma and Killian, and there's plot-bits that I'm going to skim over or just not write about because if I did, I'd never get this finished, and it was only supposed to be a distraction before season 3 starts.
> 
> So, to bring you up to speed with what happens in this chapter: Tinkerbelle could open a portal for them, but her magic can only open portals between worlds that have magic, so she couldn't send them straight to Storybrooke. The world they came into in the last chapter was the Enchanted Forest. Tinkerbelle knew of a witch who had a magic crystal that could send them where they needed to go, but she requires a blood payment, and could tell your linage from the taste. She'd had bad dealings with Rumpelstiltskin in the past (because who hasn't?) so neither Rumpelstiltskin nor Neal could go searching for her. (I know it might be weak, but I really just needed a reason for why Emma and Killian are together for this next chapter, and since I'm only writing it for those two I figured I'd not focus too much on a plot that I'm not particularly caring about).

Emma was pretty sure she'd lost complete feeling in her toes, but she continued at the steady pace that she'd set herself. Which wasn't very fast, she admitted; every step now sunk her knee deep into the snow, and having to constantly pull her legs free was taking not only a lot of time, but also a lot of her energy. She couldn't remember ever feeling so tired before, but she couldn't stop. One foot in front of the other, and repeat.

She didn't know how much further they had to walk to get back to the ship, but she knew that they had to get there before nightfall. The Enchanted Forest didn't have quite the same horrors as Neverland, and they could avoid the ogres as long as they kept quiet enough, but she'd never hear the end of it if they didn't make it back tonight. Her parents would be worried sick. And Henry, and Neal. Neither of them had given her any space for the last two weeks, apparently convinced that she'd break if she was left alone for more than two minutes at a time.

She tightened her grip on her coat, trying to pull it closer against the wind, and she knew at least that her fingers weren't numb - they stung like hell, stiff and aching. She pushed her thoughts of Neal aside, tired of dwelling on what was right or wrong. It just was, and that was it. She should be grateful that he was worried about her.

The next thing that her mind turned to was Captain Hook, and unfortunately he was a little harder to ignore. Killian walked a few paces ahead of her, struggling through the snow with as much difficulty as she was, his longer legs giving him no advantage. Emma kept her head down, focusing on each step she took and trying to keep the falling snow out of her eyes, but she made sure to keep him in her vision - if they lost sight of each other, there'd be no hope - and pretended not to notice when he turned to look back at her every few minutes.

 _He's just making sure that you don't fall behind so you make it back to the ship together,_  one part of her mind said.

 _He's making sure that you don't fall behind because he cares about you,_  said the other.

She didn't know which one she wanted to listen to, so she ignored both of them.

Emma cursed Mary Margaret's insistence that she and David partner together since they made such a great team. Just a few weeks ago Killian would have jumped at the chance to point out how great a team himself and Emma made, and for some reason his lack of comment had bothered her more than the words themselves would have done. Mulan had already left with Regina some time earlier, so the only other pair was herself and Killian. She'd almost said that she wouldn't go, ready to use her near-drowning two weeks ago as an excuse, but she knew it wouldn't have worked - she'd done her share of labor on the ship in the last few days. They would have known she was making excuses, and she didn't want to give Neal any reason to think something might be wrong. Besides, she knew how important it was to find the crystal that would finally send them home, and she knew that she had to do her part.

It felt so bitter that they were coming back empty-handed.

One of the other groups might have found the witch. She'd been seen in a few places in the last few days, all nearby the fishing village where they'd docked, and she could have been at any one of them today.

She hoped with all her heart that one of the others had the crystal. She didn't have it in her to do this again tomorrow.

It had stopped snowing, so Emma raised her head slightly to watch Killian's back as he trudged along in front of her. They had barely spoken to each other all day, except out of necessity, and even then their replies to each other had been short. She'd managed to avoid speaking directly to him for the last few weeks, and hadn't been alone with him since they'd been pulled from the water.

Something had changed between them that day, but she had no clue what it was, or what it meant. She didn't feel so wretched anymore when she thought of him, but instead she felt... empty. She was so ashamed of herself for being unable to thank him, feeling unable to face him. She kept catching him looking at her, his expression guarded, and she'd lost count of the times that he'd caught her staring at him.

She had no idea what was going on, between them or in her head, but she couldn't erase the look of terror in his eyes from her mind, or the way he'd held onto her so tightly, as though his arms alone could ward off death.

And they almost had, hadn't they? He'd saved her life.

Suddenly everything was even colder, which seconds ago she would have said was impossible. Pushing her hands out in front of her, she felt a little cold resistance and realized she'd tripped into the snow. She tried feebly to push herself up but succeeded only in digging her arms deeper into the snow.

She knew she'd have to use more energy, to use more of her body to at least sit up, but she was just so goddamned tired. Pulling her arms back to her chest, she managed to roll onto her side, getting her face away from the direct iciness. Although, the chill air wasn't much better.

Lifting her head slightly, she looked around for Killian. Thankfully, his dark leather stood out against their white surroundings, but he was still walking forward, away from her. 'Hook!' she yelled, or tried to. The combination of barely speaking all day and the ridiculously cold air had left her voice hoarse, and she knew that he wouldn't be able to hear her above the wind, not from that far away. She tried again, desperate to not be left alone in a world she barely knew.

He hadn't turned to check on her, and she knew it was possible that he wouldn't until she was well out of sight. Maybe she had been exaggerating to herself how often he was checking on her.

She was sick of feeling hopeless, and she certainly wasn't going to let herself die of hypothermia from lying in the snow. Lying on her back, she took a few deep breaths, gathering her strength before she propelled herself upwards, using all of her remaining energy to get upright.

She almost made it but she'd overestimated the density of the snow and almost fell forward onto her face again. Pulling herself backwards, she over corrected herself and felt her body falling back toward the snow.

Instead of the fluffy cold, she felt arms catch her under her armpits and she landed against a hard chest. 'Emma,' Killian began, but she pulled away quickly.

Holding onto his arm to straighten herself, Emma ignored him and gave herself a few seconds rest on her feet before she dared a step forward. She failed miserably, and would have fallen to her knees had Killian not grabbed her around the waist. She could feel his eyes on her but refused to look at him, hating that he was yet again seeing her weak.

'Stop saving me,' Emma muttered, wanting to sound angry, but what came out sounded flat and empty.

'You need to stop,' he said softly, his voice right beside her ear.

'I'm fine,' she said, pulling away from him again. She didn't want him to be holding her up, didn't want him to be so close to her. Leaning away from him, she waited until she stopped swaying before she took a step forward. When she didn't fall, she took a deep breath before lifting her other leg.

And got a face full of snow.

'Bloody hell, Swan,' she heard, his voice slightly muffled. Before she could move she felt hands grabbing her arms and she was pulled rather roughly out of the snow. Killian shifted his grip on her and lifted her into his arms.

'What do you think you're doing?' she grumbled, trying to pull away.

He tightened his grip on her. 'I saw a cabin a little way back that looked to be abandoned. If I'd known the state you were in, I would have stopped there before.'

'You don't need to carry me,' she said, trying not to let her embarrassment show.

She could feel his chest move as he chuckled. 'Actually, love, I think I do.' He turned and started walking back the way they'd come. 'Stop talking and just let me help you.'

Reluctantly, she wrapped her arms around his neck, at first trying to angle her body away from his, but when he almost dropped her a few times she gave in and relaxed into him. 'How much further?' she mumbled, resting her head against his shoulder.

'Not too far,' he said softly, something odd in his voice. She didn't dwell on it. Her exhaustion was catching up with her and she found it harder and harder to keep her eyes open. It was the most they'd spoken to each other in weeks, and she thought maybe that it felt good.

Their going was slower with Killian carrying her, and "not far" seemed a lot further than she could have managed. She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, she was in the snow again. 'What...?'

'Sorry.' He leaned her back against something hard. A wall? 'There's a bolt on the door, I need to break it down.'

Letting her head fall back against the wood, she opened her eyes to see him walking away from her. She realized she was shivering and wrapped her arms tightly around herself, watching him. The door was apparently only a few steps from where he set her. He pushed his shoulder against it, testing it, before taking a step back and kicking it, hard. She heard wood splintering and he stumbled forward into the cabin.

A hand grabbed her arm and pulled her upward, lifting her arm around his neck as his other arm went around her waist. 'Come on, darling, almost there.'

She didn't remember making it inside, but she was being laid down on a surface that wasn't snow. 'Thank you,' she sighed, drifting off again.

* * *

Setting Emma down on the ragged carpet that covered the cold stone of the floor, Killian went back to the door to see how much damage he had caused by breaking it down. It was ill made, he noticed with a frown, and wouldn't stay closed now that the bolt was broken. He certainly couldn't leave it open - what was the use of getting out of the weather if you let the weather in with you? Looking around, he caught sight of a chest hopefully wide enough to block the door.

Hoping for blankets, he opened the chest, but wasn't surprised to find it empty. It took him a few minutes to push it across the room, but he finally managed to get the door firmly closed. Closing his eyes, he slumped against the chest, allowing himself a moment before he checked on Emma. He was exhausted and even though Emma was particularly fit, carrying her that distance to the cabin had really taken it out of him.

Using the chest to pull himself up, he walked the few metres to where Emma lay asleep on the ground, crumpled into a ball. Night had fallen, and he could barely make her out in the pale moonlight that came from the windows. She was shivering so violently that it would be better described as shaking. Dropping to his knees, he pressed his fingers gently to her forehead; she felt like ice, even to his cold hands. She'd started shivering not long after he'd picked her up, and he knew that the only reason that his body wasn't reacting the same way just yet was that his efforts had kept his blood pumping enough to regulate his temperature. They were both cold before they'd stopped, true, but their bodies wouldn't really let them feel it until they were still.

Shedding his coat, Killian laid it gently over Emma, tucking it tightly around her before lying down beside her and wrapping his arm over her. He knew that it might not be long until his body starting reacting the same way that hers was to the cold, but he had to do his best to help her before he worried too much about himself.

Gods, he wished for a fire, but he knew that trying to find wood dry enough to light would be nigh on impossible in this weather. Lifting his head slightly, he pushed Emma's hair away from her face, frowning at the troubled look on her sleeping face. She shook incessantly beside him, and as his hand brushed her cheek he knew that she wasn't warming up.

He had to get her out of her wet clothes. He knew that he'd be crossing a line. That line had always been very fine between them but it had changed recently, become a tall wall of stone that he knew he couldn't break down. The way that she'd avoided him, had angled her body away from his when he first held her, had told him well enough just how much she hated being in his arms, but although he'd felt guilty - and disgusting - for it, he hadn't allowed himself to care. He'd passed the point where he could deny what he felt for Emma Swan, and even if it didn't mean anything to her, he would no longer lie to himself.

He was going to be the hero for once, damn it, whether she wanted him to or not.

Hardening his resolve, Killian sat back up and pulled his coat off of Emma, putting it aside just for the moment. He started with her boots, unlacing one and then the other and putting them by the door, before quickly ridding her of socks, coat, jeans and three shirts of varying thickness. Everything was wet. He hesitated for as long as he could before removing her bra and underwear, knowing that leaving the wet garments on her would defeat the purpose but reluctant to make her too vulnerable. He almost wished that he could make the action sexual - not for his benefit, not like that, but to calm the increasing worry that was building inside of him. Covering her quickly with his coat, which was slightly dryer - he lay hers on top of that, followed by her jeans and shirts, trying to make as thick a layer as he could. The leather of his coat would stop the wetness from seeping through.

She was still shivering just as strongly, so he let go of his worries of consequences and quickly shed his own clothes. His were less wet than hers since he hadn't fallen into the snow like she had, and if he'd worn underwear then he would have left his on, but leaving anything else on would have defied his purpose. He still wanted to pause, to rethink this for her sake, but the sight of her  _shaking_  like that forced him to discard his doubts.

Feeling his own tremors starting to rack his body, he abandoned the cold and slipped underneath his coat, being careful to make sure that it still covered her as best as it could. Her skin was freezing against his but he pressed himself against her as fully as he could, lifting her head to rest on his left arm and wrapping his right around her waist. He could feel her breath on his chest and didn't let himself focus on anything else.

He alternated between trying to hold her as tightly as humanly possible and rubbing his hand across her skin, hoping that the friction would encourage her skin to warm. His shivers increased before they got better, the coldness of her skin leaching into his before they began to warm each other, but before too long he had control of himself again and he knew that his idea would work - at least for tonight. His body felt so exhausted, but he found himself wide awake. He didn't think he'd be able to sleep until he knew that Emma was going to be all right.

He was feeling a bit more of a normal temperature now, the only coldness coming from Emma's body. She still shivered, her breathing uneven, but she no longer felt like ice. Holding her close, he rubbed his hand up and down her arm. This is what he'd wanted to do after he'd pulled her out of the water. Not only did he want to help her, to save her, but he wanted to be there for her afterward, to hold her while she adjusted and to comfort her if she needed it. Not that Emma Swan would want to admit to  _needing_  comfort, he thought wryly, but he wanted to be there for her whether she did or not. It had been Baelfire who had won that right.

But she was in  _his_  arms right now.

Killian's hand had moved to her back and he realized that instead of rubbing her body firmly for warmth, his fingers were trailing lightly over her skin. He let them go, wandering softly up and down her back, pausing at her lower back before he began to trace circles on her waist. Holding her head to his chest with his forearm, he pressed his face against her hair, breathing in deeply to take in the smell of her.

He utterly hated how he felt right now. Somehow he managed to feel both full and empty at the same time, like he was hollow, a hole in his chest, but that it was overflowing with the warmth that he felt for this woman. He hadn't felt like this in a very, very long time, and he knew that it was making him desperate. He knew he should stop the hand that trailed patterns over her skin, but he couldn't help himself. He couldn't get enough of her, and he'd take what he could for the short time that she'd be in his arms. He tried to make himself feel guilty - he knew that it was probably  _very_  wrong for him to be touching her like this while she was unaware - but nothing could have torn him away from her in that moment. Surely things couldn't get worse than they were anyway.

He felt her shiver against him as he ran his fingers down her spine, and it was only then that he realized that aside from that reaction, she must have stopped trembling a little while ago. How long had he been lost in his thoughts? He pulled back enough to see her face.

The moon had risen further, and he could see about as well as if someone had a small lantern alight on the other side of the room. Emma's eyes were open and looking back up at him solemnly. He froze his movements but left his hand where it rested upon her hip, attempting to prepare himself for her outburst. He tried to summon up some sort of witty - or smart-ass, as she would put it - remark to respond with once she started, but he couldn't seem to think of anything at all with those eyes on him.

Both of her hands were caught between them, and she loosened her fists and spread her palms across his chest, tangling her fingers slightly in the dark hair. His breath caught in his throat at her touch, knowing that she was probably about to push him away and making himself drink in the way it felt to have her nakedness pressed up against his for one last time.

She leaned forward, slowly and deliberately, and pressed her lips gently against his.

It took every ounce of strength he had not to devour her immediately, but he let his surprise restrain him as she kissed him, their lips meeting only slightly before she pulled back to look at him. A thousand thoughts ran through his head but he let them all fly by, not able to grasp onto any one in particular as he stared at her in confusion, that overflowing hole in his chest stretching.

She looked up at him, an expression on her face that he couldn't place. Giving him the smallest of smiles, she reached one hand up and placed it lightly against his cheek. Without thinking, he pressed his cheek into her palm, feeling the urge to close his eyes but unable to take them off of her. 'I can't stop thinking about you,' she said, her voice barely above a whisper, before leaning forward once more.

This time he didn't hold back, couldn't have if he'd wanted to, and when her lips touched his he was ready, closing his eyes and kissing her back softly. In just a moment she would realize what she was doing and fight away from him, but he'd take this one moment if it's all that he'd get. Gods, he was a lovesick fool. He didn't want to push too far, not knowing what it would take to scare her off, but he couldn't help the way that his fingers dug into her skin at her hip, desperately trying to restrain himself enough that she wouldn't stop.

Then her lips parted slightly and he felt her breath as she bit down gently on his lower lip, requesting entrance, and he knew he was done for.

Wrapping his arms around her fully, he kissed her with all of the hunger inside of him, with all of the need that he'd denied himself for far too long. Running his hand up her back, he twined his fingers in her hair and deepened the kiss.

He let her push him gently onto his back and when she broke the kiss he briefly mourned at the loss, before he felt her lips on his neck. His body began to respond immediately as she ran her tongue across his neck and shoulders. He let out a groan when she bit at the skin on his shoulder, sucking on it and then running her tongue across it as though to sooth it. There'd be a mark there in the morning - one he'd be proud to wear.

He needed to show her, he realized. They could have all the time in the world for words later, but right now, when she was unbelievably in his arms, he had to prove to her just how much he loved her. She'd straddled him and although her legs around his waist and their bodies pressed together felt incredible, he wrapped an arm around her back and used her position to flip them so that he was on top of her. Surprise flickered across her face but he kissed it away, teasing them both by pressing his hardness against her stomach before lifting his body away from her. Resting on his forearms, he kissed his way slowly down her neck, paying special attention to the spot where her neck and shoulder met, which always made her squirm delightfully. One of her hands grasped his shoulder and the other gripped at the back of his head, trying to guide him back up to her lips, but he had other plans.

Cupping her breast in his right hand, he massaged it gently before rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a gasp and then a quiet moan from her. Smiling against her skin, he moved his head lower to take the nipple between his teeth, his tongue flicking lightly at the tip. Her hands tightened, her fingers digging into his scalp.

He gave equal attention to each breast before beginning his way down her stomach, alternately licking and sucking at her skin, worshiping her body as best as he could. By the time he gave a steady lick up her thigh, she was squirming beneath him. 'Please,' she sighed.

He looked up to see her staring back at him, eyes hooded. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides, and in the darkness her cheeks looked flushed. She trembled as he parted her folds with his fingers, and he held her gaze as he lowered his head and pressed his tongue firmly against her sex, licking his way slowly but deliberately up towards her sensitive nub.

Her head fell back against the ground with a moan, but he kept his eyes on her for a few more seconds before turning his full attention to his task. He attacked her gently with his lips, teeth, tongue, constantly changing his method to keep her on edge. When she started trembling - definitely not from the cold this time - and he knew she was close, he sucked hard on her bundle of nerves and slid two fingers inside of her, curling them to press against the spot that he knew would bring her undone.

Her hips bucked forward and her hands clung again to the back of his head, holding him to her. 'Killian!' she cried out as her orgasm hit her, and he groaned against her skin. He'd imagined the sound of her crying his name far too often recently, fervently holding onto the memory as if to keep it fading by sheer strength of will. His memory had nothing on the real thing, and suddenly he couldn't wait any longer. Crawling up her still-trembling body, he pressed himself fully against her, needing to feel her close. Wrapping his hand around the base of her neck, he kissed her fiercely, all ideas of gentleness completely forgotten.

She kissed him back just as desperately, grinding her hips up against his. Lining himself up, he continued the kiss as he carefully pushed into her, taking her fully in one slow thrust, the two of them groaning together at the feel of their bodies joining. He didn't break their kiss but changed his pace, slowing so that he was kissing her like they had all the time in the world, like they were doing it for the joy of the simple action. He didn't move his body, he simply kissed her with all the affection in his heart.

When he couldn't ignore the ache in his lungs anymore, he finally broke his lips away, resting his forehead against hers with his eyes closed. 'Emma,' he whispered, gently cupping her cheek and rubbing his thumb against her skin.

Squirming against his body, Emma tried to pull her hips away enough to create some friction, but he held her trapped beneath him. 'Killian,' she mumbled, pressing up against him.

'Wait,' he whispered, squeezing his eyes tighter.

She froze, her hands on his chest between them. 'What?'

Brushing his lips against her cheek, he breathed in deeply, trying to breathe her in. That hollowness threatened to overwhelm him, conflicting with the way his body hummed with the knowledge that he was inside of her. 'The sooner I start, the sooner it'll be over,' he murmured reluctantly.

She was still for a few seconds longer before she pushed him away enough that he could see her face. The sadness in her eyes threatened to destroy him. 'Don't think,' she whispered, kissing him gently before rolling her hips against his.

Suppressing a moan, he tried to stop himself from responding. 'Emma,' he began.

'Please,' she begged, and it was the need in her voice that made him start to move, unable to leave her wanting. She sighed against his lips as he began to thrust slowly into her, torn between wanting to take his time with her to make it last as long as possible and wanting to take all of her now. She felt so good, her sex hot and wet and tight around his. Their clothes had been pushed aside and he drank in the sight of her body beneath his, the way her chest heaved with every breath, enjoying the sight of her breasts rising and falling with it. He couldn't keep his hand off her, running up and down her leg, side, breasts, while his hook curved around her other leg, keeping it firmly around his waist. He loved the way her hips always rose to meet his, like she wouldn't dare be called a half-hearted participant. She gave back everything that was given her, and more.

The sound of her moaning his name made his whole body tighten, and he knew that he didn't have much longer left in him, but there was no way that he was going to let himself go over the edge before she was ready. Readjusting the way his hook held her leg, he lifted it up to rest on his shoulder, leaning back slightly to create a better angle, and pressed his thumb against her clit. Her hips bucked up against his immediately and he rubbed at her nub swiftly. 'Oh, god, yes,' she moaned, throwing her head back. The sight of her made him curse, desperate to hold on until she was there with him but the way she looked, so wanton with pleasure, was making it difficult.

Finally he felt her walls start to flutter around him and he let himself chase his own release, thrusting into her deeply. Emma looked up at him, heat in her eyes, and reached up to grab his shoulders, pulling him down to lie directly on top of her again, wrapping her leg around his hips. Pulling his head down, she kissed him hungrily. He kissed her back with equal fervor, not slowing his movements, desperate to get as much of her as he could while he had the chance.

The feel of her coming apart beneath him sent him over the edge, and he pressed as deeply into her as he could go, spilling inside her as their kiss broke, his own moans equal only to her cries as they both gasped for breath. Breathing heavily, he rested his forehead against her collarbone.

After a few minutes he reluctantly rolled off of her onto his back, sitting up and looking around for his coat. Although he felt quite warm now, he knew it wouldn't be long before the freezing reality settled around them again. Finding it beside Emma on her other side, he reached over her to pick it up and shook it out over himself, leaning back and raising the edge of it questioningly.

He'd expected her to hesitate, to look at him strangely or to even flat out refuse, but she shifted over to him without pause and gently pressed him back down, slipping underneath the coat and fitting herself snugly next to him. Her head came to a rest on his shoulder and her arm wrapped around his chest, laying against his side near his armpit, her leg hooked over his so that she was fully pressed against him.

It was only a few minutes before her breathing evened out and Killian knew that she was asleep. He felt sleep tugging at him, but didn't let himself give in to its pull just yet, determined to have a few more minutes of consciousness. Using his hook to gently push the strands of hair that covered her face behind her ear, he turned his head to the side to try and get a better view of her face. She looked so peaceful, sated. It had been so long since he'd seen her anything other than angry, hurt, tired. And most of that had been directed at him.

The hollowness seemed to have dwindled for now, but the overflowing warmth that made his throat feel tight was amplified. It was so hard not to hold her tighter, tighter, but he made himself be content that she was in his arms at all. His right arm, which was wrapped around her waist, moved as he ran his hand up and down her body, unable to keep his touch still on her.

Her body pressed against his at his touch, and he smiled that he could affect her so while she was asleep. Pressing his lips against her hair, he closed his eyes. He had no idea what this was. It could be a last time together, a goodbye before she went on with her life. A moment of weakness.

Or it could be a reconciliation, an abandonment of their attempts to stay away from each other, if she felt anything similar to what he did. The way that she'd clung to him as they lost themselves in each other made him hopeful but he'd lived too long, and had felt too heartsick because of this woman to feel too confident.

He'd never felt anything more incredible than the way she felt against him right now, and he made himself push away his dark thoughts and soak in every single touch, every smell, the sight of her. Even if they had forever together, he wanted to remember this moment, and if not... Well, he'd at least have this feeling to hang on to, this moment of completeness.

'If only I could show you what you do to me,' he whispered to her.

She didn't respond, like he knew she wouldn't, and he kissed the top of her head again before relaxing back, his arm tucked closely around her waist, fingers moving slightly against her stomach. It was a while before he drifted off after her.


	7. Chapter 7

The cold at her front and the warmth at her back were the first things that Emma became aware of as she woke slowly. Tugging lightly at the blanket - coat - she pulled it over so that it covered her a little better and leaned back into the warmth behind her. The band of warmth that wrapped around her waist tightened with her movement and she realized that it was an arm, the heat she was pressing into, a person.

Memory came next and Emma lay still as she tried to process what had happened the night before. Killian had pulled her from the snow and carried her to shelter, and she vaguely remembered him carrying her inside. The next thing she could recall was waking to find his naked body wrapped tightly around hers, their limbs entwined as his fingers traced torturous patterns across her skin. She understood what he'd been trying to do - she must have practically been an icicle for him to find it necessary to use his own body to warm her. The touches that had woken her had felt more sensual than sexual, but the feeling of his body on hers, the fire that his fingers ignited on her skin, and the knowledge that he'd done this to help her, despite the fact that he'd probably thought she'd hate him for it, that she'd think he'd taken advantage of her...

She hadn't been able to help herself. She'd denied herself what she'd really wanted for far too long, and she'd been too tired to fight it anymore.

He'd made her feel more alive than she'd felt... well, since they'd last been together. Since that moment on the beach, when she'd been seconds away from opening up to him, finally ready to offer him more than just her body.

It was almost funny how quickly things could be ripped away from you.

Before Neal had turned up she hadn't thought far enough ahead to worry about where they'd go or where they'd live. She was too distracted by her excitement over finding Henry, and hadn't given much thought to anything except for the fact that right then, she'd felt happy. She had her son back, she had her parents, and Killian had more than proved himself to be worthy of a chance at something more. If it hadn't been for him, they wouldn't have had a chance to get her son back, and he'd risked his life more than once for them.

She'd been happy last night.

Before she woke and the world was coming crashing back down around her.

Careful not to disturb him too much and wake him, Emma rolled over to face Killian. His arm flexed around her again but he didn't react more than that, and she settled her head down on his other arm, her face inches from his. For the first time that she could remember, he looked totally at peace, and she wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the day just looking at him.

With Neal back in the picture, she'd been forced to think further into the future than her heart had allowed her to previously. She knew that Neal loved her, and even though his track record wasn't all that great, she knew without a doubt that he wouldn't leave Henry, and she was starting to feel pretty sure that he wouldn't leave her, either. He'd done everything he could since they'd been reunited to do his best by them, and she knew he already meant the world to Henry.

And sure, Henry liked Killian. She didn't know how he would have reacted if Neal wasn't around and she'd ended up with Killian instead, but she had a feeling that any eleven year old boy would be thrilled to have Captain Hook around.

But that was the problem, wasn't it? He might have been more Killian Jones than Captain Hook lately, especially around her and Henry, but both of his personas were pirate, through and through. And there was no way she could realistically picture a pirate captain settling down and playing happy-families in sleepy-old-Storybrooke, Maine.

 _Maybe if I had enough courage to give life in the Enchanted Forest a chance, then things could be different,_  she thought miserably, trying her hardest to commit his carefree face to memory. She didn't think she had it in her to say goodbye to the world that she'd grown up in, and she certainly wasn't the princess that she knew she'd have to be if she stayed here.

She could have a life with Neal in Storybrooke. And if things turned out differently down the track, she knew that he'd follow her to the Enchanted Forest.

_Killian had followed her to Neverland, a place that he'd spent a ridiculous amount of years trying to leave._

Yeah, but a few weeks together didn't mean the rest of their lives, and she couldn't ask him to leave his way of life behind. Not when it was who he was.

And Emma didn't want to love him now if he'd just up and leave her later.

Closing her eyes in defeat, Emma cursed inwardly and let out her breath slowly. She hadn't let herself think that word before,  _love,_  and she wouldn't let herself now. This was too hard as it was.

 _Just one more moment_ , she told herself, opening her eyes and looking up at him from underneath her lashes. Just a few seconds, and then she'd get up and get dressed, and figure out what she was going to say to him.

Unable to help herself, she reached up and brushed her fingers across his face, cupping his cheek in her palm. His eyes flickered but stayed closed, his face turning slightly to press into her hand. 'Emma,' he breathed, a faint smile playing at his lips.

 _Fuck._ She'd waited too long.

Emma tried to pull back but his arms tightened around her again and he rubbed his face against her hair. He was  _nuzzling_  her. Apparently still asleep, he sighed against her.

Feeling her chest tighten, she managed to pull back enough to see his face. 'Killian,' she said softly, putting her hand on his shoulder to shake him gently. 'Wake up.'

The peaceful look on his face had faded slightly into a frown, but his eyes were still closed. 'Not yet,' he murmured, trying to pull her closer again. His voice was still thick with sleep, but he seemed to be at least partially awake.

'We have to get back to the ship,' she tried.

'Not yet,' he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

Why did the way he held her have to feel so good? She'd never heard him sound so... well, innocent, although that was hardly the word she'd ever thought to use to describe him. He pressed his face against her neck and breathed in deeply, and she wondered whether he was anywhere near as intoxicated by her smell as she was by his.

She couldn't take this anymore. She couldn't take his gentleness, or his softness, or his affection. This was hard enough as it was. Trying to bury her heart as deeply as she could, she pushed him away carefully, putting enough space between them so that she could look him in the eyes - but she found that she couldn't.

'You have to let me go, Killian.'

She felt him breathe in slightly and his arms tensed slightly around her, but he didn't move more than that. From the way he was now holding his breath, she knew that he'd heard her, that he understood exactly what she'd meant. When he didn't move for a few seconds she lifted her head and looked up at him, and immediately wished she hadn't.

His eyes were open, starting down at her, and she felt like he could see straight through her. He'd always been able to read her well, and right then she'd have given anything to be able to interpret his expression. His face was blank, but the look in his eyes... the look in his eyes was haunted.

Slowly, his arms loosened around her and he pulled them back, leaning back and propping himself up on his elbow. The coat fell away from her as she shifted away from him, and she brought her forearm up to half-heartedly try and cover her breasts. Looking around to find her clothes, she was glad to have a reason to not look at him, but she could feel his eyes on her.

Her underwear was laid out next to the door, along with her boots, so she stood and walked quickly over to the wall, pulling them on hurriedly, ignoring the fact that they were still slightly damp. The cold night air had apparently not helped to the fabric dry out. The rest of her clothes lay in a pile not too far away from where they'd slept - she thought that they'd covered her as well when she first woke up last night, but the events that followed had forced them off, and they'd been warmed enough by each other's bodies in the night that the coat had made do. Determinedly not looking at Killian, she walked towards him and their clothes.

The rest of her clothes were just as damp as the others had been, and these had been lying in a heap all night. She struggled to get her wet jeans on, having to jump and squirm to get them over her hips, but eventually she was zipping up her boots and donning her coat. Not having anything else to do, she finally made herself look at Killian.

He was still watching her, still leaning back on his arms. His coat still mostly covered him, but had fallen down when he'd sat up and now settled halfway down his stomach. She could read his face no better now than a few minutes ago, the only difference was a defined set of his jaw that she had a feeling meant he was angry.

But his eyes didn't look angry.

Finally he moved, pushing his coat off of him and sitting up properly. She caught a quick glimpse of his naked body before she turned away quickly, going to inspect the door.

There was a large wooden chest sitting before it. Pulling open the lid, she wasn't too surprised to find it empty. Closing it again, she pushed it out of the way, having to put all of her weight into forcing it away from the door. By the time the door was clear Killian was dressed and she followed him out of the cabin.

The world was brighter than she could have imagined, the sun reflecting harshly on the snow that covered pretty much everything. The path was visible both to the right and the left, but she had absolutely no clue which way they'd come from. She hesitated but Killian didn't, turning to the right and adjusting the pack on his back before starting off toward what was apparently the coast.

He set a hard pace, and Emma had to really work to make sure not to fall behind. She wondered if he walked so fast so that he didn't have a chance to think, since she had to put all of her energy into keeping up with him. She didn't have it in herself to walk side by side like they used to, but she didn't let herself leave so much distance between them as she had yesterday.

It wasn't long before her sore muscles began to protest, aching after how much she'd overworked them the day before, but she pushed through it, determined not to slow them down.

The longer they walked, the heavier her chest started to feel.  _Why hadn't he said anything?_  She'd prepared herself for an argument, to feel embarrassed and horrible and to work through it. She'd expected him to be hurt, or angry, or bitter, but all she could see was a hardness in the set of his jaw. He hadn't said a thing to her since he'd woken properly, and it wasn't like him to let anything slide, especially when it came to her.

It took them what she guessed to be a little over two hours before she began to hear the sound of the waves at the coast, and she began to hope that they'd make it there without a problem. She could have asked him, since he had that stupid ability to tell pretty much the exact time from the sun, but she knew she wouldn't get an answer.

'No.'

Her breath caught in her throat at the coldness in his voice, and she realised that he wasn't walking beside her anymore. Turning, she saw that he'd come to a stop a few metres behind her, and cursed inwardly. They'd been so close to safety, so close to having other people to hide behind and a reason to avoid each other. She'd actually begun to believe that what had happened last night wouldn't have any repercussions.

_Yeah, right._

He stalked up to her, and she could finally put a name to the expression on his face - fury. He kept coming until he stood two feet in front of her, his hand balled into a fist at his side. 'You  _don't_  get to do this. You don't get to... to  _use_  me like this and then just up and leave without a word!'

She stared back at him incredulously. 'That's what you think I'm doing? Using you?'

'No.' His eyes narrowed at her. 'No, I don't believe that of you. But I know that something's going on, Swan, and damn it, you're going to bloody well tell me what it is!'

She wanted to avert her gaze but her eyes were trapped in his. 'Just leave it be, Hook,' she warned, taking a step back to try and put some space between them.

He was having none of it, though, and quickly filled the space between them, coming closer to her than he was before. 'That's not my name,' he said, his voice sounding like a warning.

They stared at each other for far too long, as he dared her to reveal herself and she refused to be baited. Eventually the anger in his eyes softened slightly. 'Emma, please,' he said, reaching out to her.

She pulled back slightly just before he touched her, and he let his hand drop slowly. Wrapping her arm around her stomach, hoping that she could hold herself together, she took a deep breath to prepare herself. 'It was a mistake, Killian,' she said, dropping her eyes from his.

His silence hurt just as much as the look on his face would have. Closing her eyes, she willed them to stop welling, hoping that the tears wouldn't actually fall. She knew that she wouldn't be able to stop him if they did. She was about to open her eyes and walk away when he finally spoke.

'No.'

The determination in his voice made her heart break and she turned away, wiping at her cheeks furiously and hoping that he wouldn't notice.

'Do you think this is  _easy_  for me?' Somehow he was in front of her, grabbing her left wrist and pulling it away from her face with his hand, and catching her right with his hook. 'I know that you understand how hard it is for me to feel like this, to open myself up to someone, because  _I know you,_ and you cannot tell me that you don't see this  _sameness_  that we have. I have spent so long running - away from my past, and towards a darkness that I could never escape from. But I have stopped running now.' His fingers dug into her wrist painfully, but she felt frozen, and it had nothing to do with the snow that they stood in.

'I know you've been running, too,' he said, his voice quietening. 'We can stop running together. We are  _not_  a mistake, Emma.'

She'd thought that leaving his arms that morning had been the hardest thing she'd ever done, but that had nothing on how hard it was to move now. Twisting her right arm slowly away from his hook, she put her hand over his where it still gripped her arm and carefully pried his fingers off of her, not breaking his gaze. 'I'm sorry,' she whispered, her voice breaking.

Closing his eyes, he withdrew his arms and withdrew his heart. 'You're staying with Baelfire, aren't you.'

It wasn't a question, and she didn't answer. She opened her mouth to apologise again, but knew it wouldn't do any good.

Turning her back on him, she walked away.

As soon as she broke through the edge of the trees Emma saw the small fishing village on the shore and the Jolly Roger looking slightly ridiculous and oversized at the tiny dock. She didn't bother to question Killian's sense of direction, but made her way quickly along the beach, trying really hard to keep it together. She couldn't hear him following her but the noise his movements would have made could have been disguised by the sound of the waves. A part of her wanted him to catch up to her so she'd know that he wasn't going to take off, but the other part hoped that he was keeping enough distance between them so that he wouldn't try to talk to her again.

By the time her feet hit the dock she'd scrubbed her fingers hard against her face, trying to erase all evidence of tears, and hoping that if her face was red they'd put it down to the cold. The iciness of the wind didn't help the coldness that she felt inside, and she wrapped her arms around her stomach, trying to block everything out. When she was halfway to the ship she heard a second set of footsteps hit the dock.  _At least he hadn't run off_ , she thought blankly.

The way that everyone stopped what they were doing and rushed toward her when she climbed onto the deck should have warmed her. Not wanting to deal with anything, she knelt down and pulled Henry into her arms, trying to find what comfort she could in the way he cried out her name and clung to her tightly. Another set of arms wrapped around her from behind.

'We were so worried about you,' Mary Margaret said right beside her ear. 'David and Mulan have been out searching for you all morning. What happened?'

Emma looked up and realised that David wasn't there. Aside from her mother and Henry, Neal and Gold were the only people on deck. Neal met her eyes for a few seconds, then turned away as Killian appeared over the edge of the ship. Neal was glaring at him, she realised, and she quickly looked away, not wanting to think about either of them.

'I overworked myself and we had to stop overnight.' She gave Henry a quick squeeze before she leaned back and stood up, turning to face Mary Margaret. 'Did someone else get the crystal?'

Mary Margaret's sad smile said enough. 'No, honey. And we knew you wouldn't have it, either. Regina and Mulan found out exactly where the witch was going to be, so Mulan came back to the ship to tell us what they'd discovered, and Regina went after the witch. Mulan thinks that she might be a few days.' Her smile turned into a grin. 'But then we can go home!'

Home.

Without thinking, she looked around for Killian, and saw that he wasn't with them. She glanced up at the helm and, finding it empty, assumed that he must have gone to hide in his cabin. She knew how he felt; the last thing she wanted was to be surrounded by people who had no idea what was going on inside her mind.

The look on Mary Margaret's face said that she knew. And maybe that was worse.

She pulled away from her mother and her son and wrapped her arms around herself. 'I need to go and warm up. I might sleep for a while. Wake me if anything happens?' she asked Mary Margaret.

When Mary Margaret nodded she turned away, trying to give Henry a reassuring smile as she did so. It slipped the second she reached the stairs, and she made her way to the crew's quarters as quickly as she could. Closing the door behind her, she stripped off her boots and her damp clothes, donning the old-fashioned pirates garb that Killian had managed to dig out for them from the hold of the ship. They fit her surprisingly well, and didn't look half-bad on her, so of course she'd avoided wearing them as much as she could.

Finally dry, she slipped under the blanket on her cot, wishing that she had her thick quilt from back home. Curling up on her side and facing the wall, she tried to will herself to sleep.

Except she'd slept unexpectedly well last night, considering their conditions. Which she was  _certainly_  not going to think about.

She didn't have the chance to need to try and distract herself - before she could get too far in, the door opened behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Neal walk slowly into the room and close the door. Without looking at her, he walked over and sat on the bunk opposite hers, running his fingers through his hair.

Her whole body was aching and twisting her neck to watch him over her shoulder wasn't helping, so Emma turned around so that she was facing him, but kept the blanket tucked up around her chin. She didn't think she'd ever get the cold out of her bones. At the moment, all she wanted to do was to sit and sulk - and maybe find something to drink.

'What happened last night?' he asked her quietly, surprising her a little when he actually spoke. He still wasn't looking at her.

Frowning, she felt her fists clench slightly underneath the blanket. Now was  _not_  the time to remember Killian's hand and lips and skin against her. 'I told you what happened.'

Neal looked up at her, a sarcastic smile that looked really out of place playing around his lips. 'You told me you had to stop somewhere overnight. I get why you're tired, I get why you're cold. I want to know why you look  _broken._ '

Confusion filling her, Emma sat up carefully, keeping the blanket wrapped around her the best that she could. 'I don't -'

'Did he hurt you?'

Confusion left, to be replaced with dread. That's what he thought was going on? 'He hasn't hurt me, Neal,' she said slowly. 'Why would you think he'd hurt me?'

His laugh in response to her was bitter and startling. 'Then tell me what's going on between the two of you.'

Her heart began to pound. 'I don't -'

Standing up suddenly, Neal took a step towards her, then seemed to rethink and paced away. 'Don't tell me that you don't know what I'm talking about. Something has you upset - do you think I'm blind?'

'Just because I'm upset about something doesn't mean that anything's going on with me and Killian,' she said carefully, twisting the blanket between her fingers.

'You're not denying it,' he pointed out.

Anger flared within her and, although she knew that he had every right to be suspicious, even if he didn't know any better, she hated how he was talking to her right then. 'Are you more concerned about whether I'm okay, or whether something happened between me and Killian?' she asked hotly, standing up and crossing her arms.

'Stop calling him that!' Neal yelled, directly in front of her in an instant. She shied away from him unconsciously. 'He is  _Hook_ , Emma, can't you see that? He is  _no_ t a good person! Everything that man does is just to further his own ends, and he doesn't care who he has to kill or betray to get there.' He stepped away from her, perhaps seeing her discomfort, but he didn't move far. 'He tore apart my family, Emma. Do you know how hard it is to be on this ship with him, with my father, when it was because of him that my mother's dead? If it hadn't been for him, my father wouldn't have become what he was and none of this would have happened.'

He was breathing heavily, and he finally turned away, walking over to the other side of the room and turning away from her. Emma had no idea whether he was angry and suspicious, or just angry about Killian in general, and she didn't want to say the wrong thing and make it worse.

After a minute or so he walked back over to her. 'Hook has done nothing but horrible things to my family, and I need you to stay away from him.'

If she'd been angry before, his words sounded enough like a warning to get her really pissed. 'He went to Neverland to save Henry because he's  _your_  son, Neal!' she said, her voice raising involuntarily. 'I was there for a few weeks but I can't imagine surviving there for hundreds of years, and then having to go back after you'd just escaped. When he found out that you were Henry's father was why he offered to help us.'

Neal laughed again, and it sounded as ugly as before. 'God, Emma, don't you get it? He went back to Neverland to save Henry for  _you_.'

Rolling her eyes, she went back over to her bunk and began pulling her boots on. She'd had enough of this, and the cold outside was worth it to get away from this stupid argument. Nothing she said could change Neal's mind about Killian, and she didn't even know why she was trying. 'Why would Killian do that "for me"?' she asked, smothering the last two words heavily with sarcasm.

'Because he's in love with you!'

Snapping her eyes up to look at him across the room, Emma could tell from the look on his face that he regretted the words immediately. Slowly, she tightened the zip on her boot and let her leg fall to the floor. 'What the hell are you talking about?'

Shaking his head, he ran his hand through his hair again. 'Everybody knows it. Everyone can see it. And...' He hesitated, looking away for a moment before reluctantly turning back to her. 'And he told me. I saw the way he looked at you when he resuscitated you after you went overboard, I saw the way he wouldn't let you go until Mary Margaret pulled him away from you. So I confronted him about it, and he told me that he loves you.'

_He told me that he loves you._

No. No, no, no.

No.

'No,' she whispered, feeling like her world was caving in. Neal stepped towards her, but she stood up and held her hands up to ward him off. 'You don't know what you're talking about,' she forced out. 'I won't talk about this anymore.' Grabbing her coat, she fumbled her arms through it as she fled the room.

Closing the door behind her and trying really hard not to slam it, Emma turned and almost walked straight into somebody. She was about to start yelling about male-induced stress until she realized that it was David and not Killian standing in front of her. Before she could consider why she thought Killian would be waiting outside the crew's quarters, David grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the storage hold.

Once inside, David locked the door and turned toward her, putting both of his hands on her upper arms and squeezing gently. 'Are you okay?' he asked, his expression torn between concern and anger.

Emma forced a laugh, trying to both lighten his mood and distract herself since her head was still spinning from what Neal had said only a few minutes ago. 'Do you realize how bizarre it is to be locked in an oversized cupboard with my father?' When her attempt at humour only tightened the set of his jaw she sighed, putting her own hands over his. 'I'm okay, David.'

'I just got back and found out that you were here,' he said, taking her hand with his and letting them fall between them. 'I was coming down to check on you and I overheard you arguing. I had to...' He trailed off, frowning at their joined hands.

Emma followed his gaze. Not at their hands... at her wrist. Finger-shaped bruises had formed on her arm. She tried to pull away but David's grip tightened, pulling her arm up to look at it. 'I'm going to kill him,' he said softly, menacingly. He started toward the door, and this time it was Emma trying to hold him still.

'David, come on. I can fight my own battles.' She could only imagine what would happen if David barged into Killian's quarters. He'd probably demand a duel for her honour or something equally stupid. Or just punch him in the face.

David let her stop him, but he looked restless and angry. 'I'm so sorry, Emma. If I'd known that he was hurting you I would never have waited outside.'

He pulled her roughly into his arms and she would have laughed at his awkward affection if she hadn't been so surprised. 'Wait,' she said, pushing him away so she could look at him. 'You think  _Neal_  did this?'

He frowned at her. 'Who else would it have been?' His eyes widened slightly, then he frowned again, staring at her wrists. 'Hook?'

Why did he sound so surprised?

And why did she feel such a strong need to defend him? 'He didn't mean it,' she said quietly, pulling away from him fully and looking away. She knew that she probably sounded like someone in denial, but she honestly believed it to be the truth. 'Why are you so surprised?' she asked, not wanting to go into what had happened between her and Killian before they'd reached the ship. 'I thought you hated Killian?'

She looked up to see him looking at her with a very odd expression on his face. 'I hate the way he talks to you sometimes, and how he talks to Mary Margaret. But I guess he hasn't really been like that in a while. He's not the same man we'd heard rumours of, and he's not even the same man he was before we went to Neverland.'

He sat down on a crate and Emma joined him, quietly liking his protectiveness of her. She didn't think she'd ever get sick of it, no matter how much she complained about it. 'When I came down to see you, Hook was walking toward our cabin, fury on his face,' he told her. 'He said that he didn't care what you said, he wasn't going to let anyone hurt you, especially not Baelfire. Well, Neal. It took quite a bit to convince him to give the two of you some space, and to let you fight your own battles.' He smiled at her faintly, echoing her words from earlier. 'I can't hate anybody who cares about you like that.' His smile faded slightly. 'Do you know what you're doing, Emma?'

He wasn't trying to push his advice on her, or convince her of either path. She guessed that Mary Margaret had probably brought him up to speed. She didn't know what she'd do without him and Mary Margaret anymore. Sighing, she rested her head on his shoulder, glad that she had support from somewhere.

'I don't have any bloody idea, anymore.'


	8. Chapter 8

Closing her eyes, Emma took in a deep breath and let herself get lost in the feel of the breeze tangling in her hair and the way the air smelt just before dusk. Her fingers squeezed gently at the rail of the Jolly Roger, and she let herself admit that yes, she did like this fantastical world.

Maybe one day I can find a home here, she thought, and promised herself that she'd actually try to work herself toward that. This world was where her family called home, and right now they were sacrificing that to be with her. One day Ill return the favour.

This would be their last night in the Enchanted Forest. They were all eager to get home but Mary Margaret had begged a boon of them: one last trip to their castle to retrieve some of Emma's baby things. No matter how excited Emma was for the real world - and artificial heating - she couldn't think about that without feeling a lump grow in her throat, and nobody had been able to deny her.

The last few days had flown by, and Emma knew that she was running out of time. She'd made a huge mess of things with Neal and with Killian, and she knew that if she didn't find the courage to sort it out before they reached Storybrooke then Killian would more than likely drop them off and then turn right around again, and she'd never forgive herself if she didn't at least try to sort everything out. The problem was, she couldn't fix anything without someone getting hurt - more than she'd already caused, anyway. And to even have a chance of changing anything she'd have to admit just how very, very wrong she'd been.

Somehow, she'd managed to avoid both Killian and Neal in the past few days. She had no idea whether Neal thought that something was actually wrong between them or if she was just upset about their argument, but either way she hadn't felt up to facing him until she sorted her mind out. And her heart.

No, that was a lie. She knew exactly what her heart wanted. She just didn't know if she could convince her mind that she could have it.

She'd been ready to jump in head first with Killian, and she had a feeling that he'd known it, too. Their few lust-fueled couplings had turned into something so much more after Henry had been found and she'd finally been able to focus on just what was going on between the two of them. At the time, she hadn't had so many excuses not to trust him - hadn't even strongly considered the fact that he might not be good for her and Henry. He'd fought so hard to get her son back, and she'd felt surprisingly sure that the two of them could become something more. That they'd work.

But then Neal had appeared out of thin air, alive, existing, and she'd had another option. She had somewhere to run to, something to hide behind and her insecure, broken heart had suddenly dug up all of these reasons that her and Killian wouldn't work, that they couldn't. All of these things that hadn't even occurred to her before suddenly were all that she could grasp onto, and she didn't even consider the voice inside her that said if they talked about it, maybe it wouldn't be all she feared.

She'd run, she'd hidden, and she'd broken everything.

Unfortunately, avoiding them both had been much easier said than done. She knew that the easiest way to avoid one was to be with the other, but that wasn't going to get her anywhere. Staying out of Neal's way was easier - he manned the ship at night and slept most of the day, so all she had to do was time when she went to bed around when he wasn't there. Killian should have been another matter, since to avoid Neal when he was awake during the day all she had to do was spend her time on deck with him, but she did her best to keep her distance. He could have called out to her, or locked the wheel in place and come to her, but after a few days in which he didn't talk to her, she started to wonder if she'd pushed him away for good. But she felt his eyes on her.

All the time, she felt his eyes on her.

Just like now. She felt very self-aware, knowing that he was watching her. So much so, in fact, that she didn't notice someone approaching her until they were right beside her, leaning his side against the rail and crossing his arms across his chest. 'Can you stop avoiding me for five minutes?'

Startled, Emma jumped slightly, then turned her head to look at him. Neal looked back at her with an expression that wasn't quite anger... maybe annoyance, but mostly resignation. She opened her mouth to say that no, she wasn't avoiding him and he was stupid to think so, but after a moment she closed her mouth and sighed. 'I'm sorry, Neal,' she said quietly, looking back out to the sea.

He was silent for a moment, and out of the corner of her eye she could see that he was still watching her. 'For avoiding me or for something else?'

Emma closed her eyes, breathing in the ocean. 'For everything.' Steeling herself, she opened her eyes and turned toward him so they stood square to each other. 'I'm sorry that I've caused such a mess.'

He regarded her silently for a good few seconds before he sighed quietly, letting his arms drop and resting one on the rail of the ship. 'I should have realized that things might have changed while I was gone,' he admitted.

The knowledge that she wouldn't have to spell it out to him that they weren't going to be together made her feel like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She smiled at him faintly. 'I really did want to try and make things work,' she told him.

'For Henry?'

She would have done anything for Henry, but she knew that the kid would never forgive her if he found out she'd forced herself into something that her heart wasn't in to make him happy. 'Not just for Henry,' she said, and finally gave thoughts to something that had been tucked into the back of her mind ever since she'd run into him - literally - in Manhattan. 'For the past that we had together, too. I... I wanted it to mean something.' She felt awkward, and looked away, twisting the hem of her shirt in her hand. 'Meeting you changed me forever, Neal, and it felt like the only good thing that came from that was Henry. And even him, I wasn't ready to have for ten years. Hell, I still don't know if I'm ready,' she said, laughing humourlessly in a stupid attempt to take away some of her own seriousness. Looking up, she saw that he didn't appear to find her funny.

'I thought that if we could be happy together now, then maybe it would take away some of the pain I've been living with ever since you left,' she continued, swallowing away her apprehension. 'But being with you isn't making my life feel lighter.' Again she hesitated, then went for broke. 'I don't think I can trust you like I need to,' she admitted. 'I can't trust you not to break my heart again.'

His expression didn't change, but his eyes flickered between hurt and anger before finally settling on resentment. 'But you can trust him?' he asked bitterly, and she didn't need to ask who he was referring to.

She didn't bother asking how he knew, or how much he knew; it would just make an awkward situation worse. 'He came back,' she said simply.

Scowling, Neal stepped up to her, his fist clenching on top of the rail. 'I came back!'

What? Staring at him incredulously, it took a hell of a lot of effort to swallow her anger, unwilling to argue and make this worse. It only worked a little bit, however, and she stepped forward as well, poking him hard in the chest. 'You did nothing of the sort! I had to run you down on the street, Neal! And yeah, you may have come to your apartment to make sure Gold didn't hurt me, but if it weren't for Henry, you never would have stayed further than that. You were engaged!'

He was staring at her blankly. Lost for words, or nothing to say? It only fueled her on. 'You say that you've been waiting for me for almost twelve years but as soon as you had the chance, you didn't take it! You knew where I was when August came looking for me, and you knew when the curse was broken. So don't you dare tell me that you came back for me!'

Breathing hard, she turned and paced a few steps away from him, needing the distance. She hadn't intended to dig up these feelings for him, but apparently she'd been holding onto them for too long.

'Emma, I'm sorry,' she heard after a few minutes, and she slowly turned around and walked back to him, looking down at her feet. He closed the space that she'd left between them and took both of her hands in his, squeezing them gently. 'I knew you'd be angry with me, and that's why I stayed away. I know it's not an excuse...'

No, it's not.

'No, it's not,' she whispered.

After a moment he dropped his hands and she stepped back. His face fell at her movement, and although she felt bad for him, she mostly just felt awkward. She'd never had anyone who cared about her enough to be sad that she was breaking up with them. Hell, she'd never really broken up with anyone before. She clearly wasn't very good at this whole thing.

'I won't leave Henry,' he warned her.

He warned her? She smiled at him viciously. 'If you left him I'd hunt you down and rip your heart out myself.'

They stared at each other for a few moments before his eyes crinkled and he chuckled. 'Who would have thought we'd end up here, huh?'

Emma hesitated. This was his peace offering and she was reluctant to take it so simply, but when it really came down to it, they'd have to at least have a non-hostile relationship for Henry's sake if he was going to stay in their lives. 'Well, I'm pretty sure you had an idea long before I did, Baelfire,' she said dryly, but rolled her eyes and smiled at him to let her know her heart wasn't in it.

She didn't think she'd ever forgive him for the mess he'd left her life and her heart in. But maybe, for Henry at least, they could co-exist.

Neal glanced upwards, then up to the helm. Emma started to follow his gaze instinctively, but caught herself. 'It's getting late. I better take over my turn at the wheel.'

Emma turned back to the ocean as he took his leave. Crossing her arms on the rail, she rested her forehead on them and took in a deep breath. There were other things to talk about, to sort out - not only between the two of them, she supposed, but with Regina as well - but at least the hard part was out of the way. Straightening and looking out at the waves, she felt more free than she'd felt in a while. He'd been hurt, but that was unavoidable, and the still-bitter part of her told herself that he couldn't be more hurt than how she'd felt, alone in prison with a baby she couldn't keep. That pain still ached, and she guessed that it meant that some part of her still wanted him, wanted things to work out. But...

Seventeen year old Emma was still in love with Neal. But Emma wasn't seventeen years old anymore, and the person that she was now didn't truly love Neal Cassidy.

Twenty eight year old Emma loved Captain bloody Hook.

Sighing, she ran her hand through her hair and then rested her chin in her palm, her elbow on the rail. They had one more night before they reached Storybrooke.

Hopefully it would be enough.

One more day, and he could rid himself of this gods-damned situation for good.

Killian stood at the helm, wheel in hand and hook, legs spread slightly to keep himself steady. It had been a long day, and his legs and feet had begun to ache from keeping him upright and in the same spot all day. He was used to spending long stretches of time on his feet, but a whole day at the helm coupled with how little sleep he'd had for the last few nights was beginning to take its toll on him. He'd started to run low on rum, but had saved a bottle or two for tonight, knowing that he wouldn't be able to get through it unless he drank himself to sleep.

Would he have enough time in Storybrooke tomorrow to replenish his stores? Or should he just get in and out as quickly as possible, and hope that he could find another place to find enough liquor to drown in?

Against his will, his eyes focused again at the woman standing on the foredeck. She had no consideration at all; how was he supposed to avoid looking at her if she stood right where he needed to look to navigate the bloody ship? And if he saw her, his thoughts went immediately to how well they fit together - or at least so he thought (she apparently had a different point of view) - and that was the last thing he wanted to be thinking about.

He couldn't help himself, and continued to watch her, trying to drink in every image he could while he was still able. And so he was watching when Baelfire came above deck and instead of approaching him to relieve him of his spot at the helm for the night, went in the opposite direction and walked up to Emma.

Killian felt his stomach twist, but didn't look away. The two of them talked for a few minutes, and he was glad that he couldn't hear what they were saying. But then they stepped closer to each other and Emma's voice started getting louder, and now that he could hear her raised voice over the wind, he wished he could hear her, to help her. But he knew she could look after herself, and wouldn't want his help anyway. Baelfire seemed to be just standing it and taking it.

She turned and walked away from him, and Killian watched her running her hands through her hair, rubbing them over her face. He felt a spark of pleasure that they were fighting and didn't even have the shame anymore to feel guilty for it, although he'd have given anything to be the one to comfort her and calm her down.

But after a few minutes she turned around and walked back to Baelfire, their hands joining between them. Huffing out a breath, Killian looked away, turning his eyes to the coast in the distance that they were following. Stop getting your hopes up, you bloody fool. Why couldn't he just accept that what he wanted wasn't going to happen?

Because it should happen, damn it!

Killian reluctantly looked back over to the foredeck and saw that there was some space between Emma and Baelfire again, and Baelfire was looking up at him. The sun had set only a few moments ago, so he could still see him clearly. Their eyes met for a long moment before Baelfire turned back to Emma briefly, then started to make his way up to the helm.

He let his eyes linger on Emma for a moment more as she turned her back on them, then glanced at Baelfire. The two of them eyed each other for a few seconds, and Killian was confused by the look of resentment on the other man's face. Nodding sharply at him, he relinquished the wheel and headed toward the steps to the main deck.

'I don't blame you.'

Slowly, Killian turned around to face Baelfire. He now stood at the helm of ship as if he belonged there, and just the sight of it made his chest ache for the opportunity that they'd missed. How different would their lives have been if he hadn't let the boy force him away all those years ago, if he hadn't let the lost ones take him?

Shaking away the thought, he made himself consider what Baelfire had said, his words contradictory to his expression just moments before. The two of them had barely spoken to each other since Emma had gone overboard, and hadn't spoken at all while they were alone since then. He automatically assumed that he was talking about Emma - maybe that's what they'd been arguing about - but thought better of acting on that assumption in case she hadn't said anything about their tryst.

He opened his mouth to ask what for, but Baelfire beat him to it. 'Just like you, I've spent my whole life holding onto resentment - for you, for my mother, my father.' He adjusted his grip on the spokes and shifted uncomfortably. 'I know that... none of it was your fault. My father was the one who killed her, not you, and it was my mother's decision to leave us. You didn't force that.'

Feeling a painful heaviness settling on his chest, Killian let himself dwell on what he'd once hoped so strongly for; a woman by his side, and a son to call his own. Milah, and Baelfire. And him, together. Even when Milah had been taken for him, he'd still had his chance with the boy, and that loss had snapped the last fraying thread that was his moral.

'I should have refused her,' he said hollowly, knowing that he never would have had the strength to turn her away. 'I should have made her stay with you.'

Baelfire's eyes were on him, searching. 'No,' he said slowly. 'She followed her heart. I can resent her for leaving me, but I can't hate her for that.'

Pushing down his swirling emotion, Killian forced a smile. Not one part of him could believe that they were having this conversation, but he wasn't about to push the lad away when he was reaching out. No matter what else was going on, maybe he could take a step toward salvaging one relationship. 'She was a marvelous woman,' he said warmly.

'Yeah,' Baelfire said quietly, and Killian realized that he wasn't looking at him anymore, but rather over his shoulder. Turning, he followed his gaze to look at Emma, still standing with her back to them, watching the ocean.

A marvelous woman. He could have had that chance again, a chance at family. Emma, and Henry... And unbelievably, even Snow and David had stopped showing him so much disdain. But no, this family life apparently wasn't for him.

And he couldn't take anymore. Not sober, anyway. Bidding Baelfire a hasty goodnight, he made his way below deck to his rum, and his regret.


	9. Chapter 9

Shrugging out of his coat, Killian threw it over the end of his bed then hesitated before removing his vest as well, leaving his loose shirt on. His plan was to get so drunk that he couldn't remember his own name, and he certainly wouldn't remember to remove the constrictive garments before he passed out if he didn't do it now. Stripping off his boots as well, he retrieved the second to last bottle of rum from his private store at the back of his wardrobe, then made his way over to his desk. Rolling up the maps of this part of the Enchanted Forests' coastline - which he'd drew himself - he tucked them safely away before sitting down. Leaning back, he brought his feet up to rest on top of the desk, his legs crossed at his ankles, flexing his toes with a sigh as he let the cold air sooth his sore feet.

How the hell had he gotten himself into this mess? He'd closed himself off for so long and for good reason, he thought bitterly. Since Milah had died, he'd given no thought to women, except as a brief escape or as a tool to be used. Three hundred years had given him plenty of time to hone his sexuality into a weapon. Sometimes he'd enjoyed the chase and the deceit, but most of the time he'd felt nothing but disdain for the women who'd thrown themselves at him.

And that was the start of the problem, wasn't it?  _She_  hadn't thrown herself at him - had thoroughly rebuffed every advance - and he hadn't been lying when he'd told her that he loved a challenge, especially after so long of having the wrong women fall into his lap. He'd been so intrigued by her from the start.

But he hadn't realized that he was in love with her until it was too late.

He hadn't been searching for love - there was no room for such things in a quest for revenge. When had his priorities changed so drastically?

Why was he yearning  _so damned much_  for a chance to have what he'd never truly had?

A family.

Rubbing his hand over his face roughly, Killian leaned forward and grabbed the bottle, thumbing the cork off and gulping down several mouthfuls of his best drink. Sitting back, he tried to push those thoughts away, but Baelfire's words - his forgiveness - was almost too much for him.

He'd never thought that he'd need any more family than his crew, and for a long time they'd been enough. And unbelievably, when Milah had talked him into taking her away she'd fit in just like she'd always been with them. He'd never considered the idea of having more than that until he'd met Baelfire, and after he'd lost them both, he didn't think he'd have the chance of that again.

He certainly hadn't been searching for love but he'd found it again, and it was different with Emma. He didn't just want her to be a part of his life: he wanted to be a part of hers. He wanted not just her but her family. He wanted a family  _with_  her.

But it was too late. Love was great while it lasted, but in the end all it did was leave you torn and empty. Broken.

_And so god... damned... bitter._

After taking another mouthful of rum, he shook the bottle gently to see how much he had left. It wasn't affecting him as quickly as he'd like, even though he hadn't eaten anything since David had brought him something just after noon. He should have sought out something to eat before he'd retired to his quarters, but he'd get drunker more quickly this way.

 _Supposedly, anyway,_  he thought, eyeing the bottle before taking another swig.

As he drank he heard the sound of his door opening and he lowered the bottle quickly, surprised that he hadn't heard any approaching footsteps. His mind went blank in an instant, however, when Emma slipped into the room. She looked at him then away, closing the door quietly behind her.

As much as he wanted to, he couldn't take his eyes off of her. Her cheeks were red and her hair tousled from the wind, and he wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through it. Tightening his grip on the bottle instead, he set it down on the table, using a surprising amount of effort to keep his movements steady. He swallowed before speaking to make sure his voice wouldn't come out a croak, but it only worked so well. 'Most people knock to announce their presence before barging into other people's rooms,' he told her, his sour tone in contrast to his teasing words.

She flinched visibly, and he had a feeling that it was the tone and not the words themselves that she payed attention to. 'Would you have let me in if you knew it was me?' she asked quietly, still starting at her feet.

 _Yes, no, never, always._ Not knowing his own mind - or rather, not wanting to - he stayed quiet, wracking his brain to figure out what the hell she was doing here. 'What do you want, Swan?' he asked eventually, unable to take the strained silence any longer.

Emma finally looked up at him and he immediately wished she hadn't - her eyes looked about as haunted as he felt. After a few more moments of silence she swallowed hard and walked towards him.

Oh gods, he's so screwed.

But instead of coming directly to him, she stopped on the other side of the desk and grabbed his rum, throwing her head back to take a long drink. Feeling unsettled, he stepped into the persona in which he felt the safest. 'Ah, I see,' he said, layering his voice with sarcastic cheerfulness. 'You're here to drink all of my rum and have your use of me one last time before you go back to the  _real world._ ' He rolled his eyes to punctuate his last words, filling them with scorn.

Emma slammed the bottle down on the desk between them, turning and taking a few steps away from him. He relaxed slightly as the distance increased between them. 'I'm not going to drink all of your rum,' she said dryly, sounding offended.

He raised his eyebrows at the back of her head. 'But you are going to use me?'

Spinning around, she stared at him incredulously. 'Is that  _really_  what you think I'm doing?'

_That's what you think I'm doing? Using you?_

The hurt on her face was almost enough to make him back down, but it also stirred his own pain. 'Well your actions are speaking quite loudly from my point of view,' he said, taking his rum back and casually taking a drink. 'Forgive me if that's all I have to go on, love.'

The silence stretched out between them, and the hurt faded into resignation. 'I fucked up.'

Well he certainly wasn't going to comment on that. At least she was straight to the point. 'You should go, Emma,' he said quietly, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. Lowering his feet to the ground, he ran his fingers through his hair and looked away from her.

'But -'

'That wasn't a request,' he growled. He pushed himself to his feet and stepped around his desk, heading toward the door.

'Killian, I need to -'

'No you don't!' He'd been about to open his cabin door to force her out but instead he spun around, stepping up close to her and staring her down in an attempt to intimidate her. Something that felt an awful lot like panic was starting to build in his chest, and he needed her to get away before he gave into that. 'You don't need to do anything, Emma, you just need to  _leave!_  Can't you just -'

'I know you're in love with me,' she said quickly, and whatever he'd been about to say fled his mind completely as she closed what little distance he'd left between them and pressed a palm against his chest. Against his heart.

Was she forcing his own tricks against him, or was she genuine in her actions? She was so close to him, all he had to do was bend his head slightly and his lips would brush against hers. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her right then, and he hated himself for it. Lifting his hand, he closed it over hers, then used that grip to spin her quickly around so that her back was pressed tightly against him. His hand still gripped hers and he used both of their arms to keep her firmly against him as his hook ran lightly across her neck, pulling her hair back to bare the skin of her shoulder.

'That never occurred to you?' he whispered darkly in her ear, feeling her shiver as his lips brushed against her skin. He let himself enjoy for a moment just how good she felt, held against him like this, before he pushed her away roughly, pretending not to pay attention as she grabbed onto his chest of draws to steady herself. He walked swiftly back to his desk and his saviour in a bottle. 'Well it didn't occur to me either until I saw you lifeless on the deck of my ship,' he told her, still trying to force some sarcasm or mockery into his words but probably failing miserably, the image of her in such a state still scaring the breath out of him. Leaning against the edge of his desk, he considered his rum for a few seconds before lifting it to his lips and drinking until it was empty, ignoring the burn in his throat.

When he let the bottle drop onto the desk with a dull thump, he looked up to see her staring at him. 'God, Killian, I'm so sorry,' she said softly, her voice strained.

His throat tightened.  _More rum._  His head was starting to swim a little, so maybe he was imagining the sadness on her face. 'Don't be,' he said roughly, retrieving his last bottle. He stayed with his back to her, propping his elbow against the wood, closing his eyes and rubbing his hand over them. 'Just leave, Emma,' he said tiredly. 'You'll be rid of me for good tomorrow.' Couldn't she see that he just couldn't take it anymore?

He didn't hear her leaving. He was about to turn around and yell at her, do something, to make her leave him in peace, but she spoke first. 'I broke up with Neal.'

Sighing, he turned to face her. She was looking at him expectantly, her hands clasped in front of her. Shrugging, he went back to lean on his desk again, crossing his feet in front of him. 'I'm afraid I don't know what that means, love.'

She frowned for a moment before her eyes widened slightly in understanding. 'Oh, right. We're, um... not together anymore.' She looked down at her hands, which were twisting together. 'I couldn't keep pretending that that was what I wanted.'

He knew that he should say something. That any self-respecting man would still demand that she leave, that he wanted nothing to do with her. But hope had started to grow in the stupid, deep part inside of him that was the cause of all of this mess in the first place.

'I didn't know what to do, Killian.' Finally she looked up at him. He couldn't tell what was going through her head, but she looked earnest... and afraid? 'I thought that if I could make things work with Neal then it would heal the part of me that he'd broken when he abandoned me. And Henry's been through so much since he met me, and I thought that if I could give him something stable then maybe he'd forgive me for leaving  _him_...'

Twin tears spilled down her cheeks when she blinked. Killian looked away, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to try and steady himself. All he wanted was to close the few steps between them, to take her in his arms and wipe her tears away. He'd never underestimated the lengths she'd go to for her son, but he'd thought that she'd forgotten about Pan's words when they'd gotten Henry back and the lad had been ecstatic to be back with his family.

There wasn't enough rum in the world for this.

Taking another long drink anyway to prepare himself - the fuzziness that he'd started to feel earlier had completely vanished again - he made himself look back up at her. She was still watching him. He'd expected her to wipe her face and thoroughly deny any idea of tears, but instead she was still, streaks still clear on her cheeks. He couldn't deny her pain, but it still wasn't adding up for him.

 _And,_  he reminded himself,  _just because she's saying she doesn't want Baelfire doesn't mean that she wants you._

He wanted to sound angry, he wanted to comfort her. When he spoke, his voice came out somewhere in between. 'After everything he's put you through, you still thought he was the safer option?'

She frowned at him uncertainly, biting her lip gently. 'If it wasn't for Henry... He has every reason to stay, now. And you have every reason to go.'

The rum almost slipped from his hand. When he ensured his firm grip on it, he had to resist the urge to throw it against the wall.  _That_  was what she thought? ' _That's_  what this is about?' he asked her, anger spiking in him before he could stop it. Slamming the bottle on the table - he had enough sense of mind to know how much he'd regret it if he wasted it - he started to storm towards her, but held himself back before he reached her, not really trusting himself to be too close to her. 'You think that I'll leave you because of  _Henry?_ '

She almost looked surprised, but smoothed her features quickly. Then she frowned. 'I know what kind of life you've lived. It's not the type to imply a desire for a child. I wouldn't ask you to be his father, but... Henry's used to people loving him. If we were together, you would have had to be in his life.'

 _If we were together._  The words were like a dagger in his heart. He paced before her a few times, restless in his frustration, before he came to a stop in front of her. 'Baelfire never told you, did he? I almost took  _him_  in, when he was a lad.'

'Yeah, he told me,' she said, interrupting him before he could continue. 'He said that you found him in Neverland and sold him out to the lost boys!'

He suppressed a growl - barely. 'Is that what he told you? Did he tell you about how I hid him from the lost boys when they first came for him? I knew he was Milah's son. I wanted to make good on Milah's wish that we be a family, I wanted to make a home for the lad. When he found out who I was, he wouldn't listen to anything I had to say.' He didn't want to be talking about Milah - not with her, not tonight. Taking a shuddering breath, he backed off, needing to either take her in his arms or put as much space between them as possible. The uncertainty on her face made him choose the later.

Picking up the rum, he'd almost brought it up to his lips before his eyes fell on her again, and he stopped. She was still looking at where he'd stood before her a few moments ago, that same hesitancy in her eyes. Slowly, he lowered the bottle. For some reason, the fact that she was off-kilter helped to steady him. Taking in a few deep breaths, he moved to stand in front of her again. If he reached out he could touch her. She didn't look at him, but she didn't move away, either.

He could feel his own conviction wavering. Holding his breath, he held his hand up to her face, wanting to cup her cheek but stopping just before his skin touched his. 'Why is it so hard for you to believe that I could love him, that I could want not only you but everything that comes with you as well?'

He saw and heard her breath catch in her throat, and her eyes came up to meet his, flickering between the two searchingly as if she was desperately hunting for any kind of deception. He held her gaze firmly, determined for her to see the truth in his words. Her lips parted as if she was about to speak but she just continued staring at him for what felt like minutes.

He was about to press his hand against her cheek when she moved backward slightly, and he sighed, dropping his hand.

'I wasn't actually talking about Henry,' she said quietly, looking away again. Walking past him, she took his spot at his desk, leaning against the edge just like he'd done not that long ago. Turning to face her, he crossed his arms and leaned back against his chest of draws, ignoring how the knobs pressed into his back in an attempt to look casual. He had no idea who had the upper hand anymore, or even what the likely outcome of this conversation was. At first he'd just wanted her gone, but now... He had no clue what he thought was going to happen, but he knew with every fibre of his being that he didn't want her to leave.

'What, then?'

'You're leaving tomorrow, aren't you? After we get back to Storybrooke?'

His thoughts raced as he tried to find a response. He supposed that where he was by tomorrow evening depended on where this conversation went, but he wasn't sure he wanted to put that knowledge into her hands. He didn't want her to be with him because she pitied him, but if her hesitation was because she didn't think he'd stay with her, he needed to make his opinion clear...

Once again, she spoke before he could straighten his thoughts, and her sad smile seemed to say that she thought his silence was his answer. 'Maybe if we were staying in the Enchanted Forest, things could be different, but I'm not strong enough for that, not yet. I couldn't ask you to live in my world, Killian.' She sounded tired... defeated. 'It's not for you. Everything you are... a pirate...'

'A man,' he interjected, taking a step toward her.

She just looked at him for a few seconds. 'What would you possibly do with yourself in my world, Killian?' she asked hopelessly, spreading her arms as if in defeat. 'I can't force you to give up who you are. You won't be able to be a pirate in Storybrooke. You'd be bored shitless!'

He came closer again. 'There's oceans there, yes?' he asked, knowing very well that there was.

She swallowed, her expression guarded. 'This is your home, Killian. Everything I know about you won't  _fit_  in Storybrooke.'

'Maybe I don't want to be who I am anymore! Maybe I just want you!' He realized that they were yelling and took a shaking breath, trying to calm himself. She was staring at him, wide-eyed, and suddenly he was over it, over  _everything._  He stepped up to her, not stopping until he was so close to her that if they breathed out of sync their chests would touch. 'Home hasn't been any one place in particular for a very long time, love,' he told her quietly, watching her eyes carefully to see what effect he was having. Why did she have to choose now to be so hard to read? 'This ship is more home to me than any piece of land has ever been.'

'You can't live on your ship, Killian,' she said tiredly.

'I can if I needed to,' he told her, then leaned closer, rubbing his nose gently against her ear. He thrilled at the way her breath caught. 'I'd live in a dingy if it meant abiding in the same world as you.'

Emma pulled away enough to look at him, then her hands came up to grasp his shirt. She started to pull him towards her but his hand came over hers and held the distance between them. He saw the confusion in her eyes and didn't want to hurt her, but he  _did,_  damn it,he needed her to know just what she'd done to him. 'But none of that changes how you've treated me since Baelfire came back,' he said, hardening his voice.

He thought he saw her eyes start to glisten slightly as she bit her lip. 'I know,' she whispered, tightening her grip on his shirt into fists, but not trying to pull him closer again.  _Gods, she was so close._  'I'm so sorry.'

He didn't want to think about forgiveness. He wanted to forgive her then and there for anything she could have possibly done, ever, to anyone, but he knew that it was going to take a while for him to heal the broken part of him that had grown more ragged with every encounter since Baelfire resurfaced.

'I just want to go back to the beach,' Emma said softly, bringing him back to himself. She'd smoothed her hands out and pressed both of them gently against his chest, her fingers rubbing gently against his skin. Again, she wasn't looking at him, but rather watching her hands. 'I wish I'd had the chance to say what I'd wanted to say.'

Lowering his right hand to her waist, he used his hook to lift her chin so she had to meet his eyes. 'What did you want to say?' he asked her.

She shook her head slightly. 'It doesn't matter. I'd have something different to say now.'

'No,' he said, running the curved part of his hook over her cheek. She shivered, but didn't look afraid. 'Tell me what you would have said.'  _How different could our lives have been over the last few weeks?_

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Emma closed her eyes and leaned her face into the touch of the cool metal on her cheek, moving one hand to wrap around his wrist to keep his arm where it was. 'I was telling you thank you, for helping me get my son back. I was going to tell you that not only did you help us find him, but that without you, I don't think I would have been able to hold myself together. You understood that I needed to focus on that first, and you were still waiting for me when I was ready. I was... I was ready to let you in.'

Killian's own breath felt laboured, his chest tight. He wanted to feel her, to touch her, so he switched his arms. Hooking his left arm around her waist, he stepped just slightly closer to her, pressing his body fully against hers as she leant up against his desk. His right hand cupped her cheek, his finger rubbing across her skin, before it moved to the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair like he'd wanted them to when she'd first entered his quarters. 'And what would you say now?' he murmured, his lips barely moving.

Emma looked up at him so openly that he almost felt his heart stop. Her hands slid up his chest to rest on either side of his neck, her thumbs rubbing over his cheeks. 'Killian, I love you.'

She pulled him in, pressing her lips to his quickly as if she was afraid he'd push her away. He felt frozen under her touch, stunned. All of his thoughts fled as she kissed him softly.

She started to pull away when he didn't respond, but her movement broke the crumbling wall inside of him that held back everything he'd been trying to hold at bay. Tightening his grip on her, he kissed her hungrily, swallowing her gasp as he pushed her harder against the desk. One of her hands twisted in his hair and the other wrapped around his neck, as if she was trying to keep him as close as possible.

He was willing to oblige that. Trailing his hand down her side, he wrapped his hand around her thigh and guided her up until she was sitting on the desk properly. She started to shuffle back onto it fully but he pulled her back to the edge, parting her legs and stepping in between them. His hand squeezed her thigh and then moved around to her lower back, pressing her against him. He could already feel his body responding, and he knew there was no way he was letting her leave again.

When he broke the kiss they were both gasping, but he didn't give her much respite, trailing his lips across her jaw. He kissed his way down her neck, thrilling in the taste of her skin. 'I'm not going to waste any more time with you, darling,' he warned her, pulling aside the top of her shirt and sucking at the tender skin where her neck and shoulder joined. A soft sound escaped her lips and she gripped onto him tighter.

'Good,' she said, her voice strained. He pulled back to look at her but she pulled him to her, her mouth covering his, her lips parting to give him access. Her hips were rocking forward against his, and he needed to feel her skin on his. Backing up enough to pull his shirt over his head, he threw it to the side and tugged hers up. Apparently as impatient as he was, Emma tried to help him with it, but their combined effort only caused the sound of ripping material to fill the room. He barely noticed in his hurry, but when she started to laugh he made himself pull back, glancing at her curiously. She grinned up at him from under her lashes, pulling the torn fabric from her shoulders. 'I don't have any other shirts of my own, you know,' she told him, trying to look serious.

Her banter eased a part of the hollowness inside of him, but he still needed more. Doing his best to rid her of her bra without tearing that too, he kept an arm wrapped around her and leaned into her, pressing her back down onto the desk. Reclaiming her lips, he moved against her lightly, marveling at how perfect she felt, their skin pressed together. He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, before trailing down her neck again, but this time heading lower.

Capturing her nipple between his teeth, he flicked at its tip with his tongue, suppressing a grin as she moaned lowly and writhed beneath him. He wanted to give them more attention but his own need was becoming undeniable, and he wanted to savour other parts of her first. Kissing his way slowly down her stomach, he teased at the skin next to her hip bone as his fingers made short work of her jeans. He only struggled with the tight denim briefly before he managed to remove them from her, her underwear coming shortly afterward.

Without waiting for subtlety, Killian knelt before the desk, parting her legs and settling himself between them. Wrapping his left arm around her thigh to rest on her lower stomach, he spread her folds with the fingers of his right hand and pressed his mouth against her as hungrily as he'd kissed her just minutes ago. She cried out and tried to sit up, perhaps out of reflex, but his arm held her down as he licked at her, finding her sweet spot and sucking at it. She tried to move again, bucking her hips up this time, but he held her still, determined to have his way with her as he wanted.

Her body started trembling under his touch and her legs crossed over his shoulders, her fingers grasping at his hair to keep him in position. He growled against her as her fingers pulled at him, and she let out a groan, trying again to lift her hips. Her breathing had become erratic and he closed his eyes, focusing just on how her body was reacting to him. Needing to feel her come undone, he slipped two fingers inside of her, curling them to find that spot that she loved.

The sound of her crying his name when she gave in to her release was the greatest sound he'd ever heard.

* * *

Emma was still riding her high when Killian pulled her into a sitting position, still propped on the edge of the desk. She threw one arm around his neck, needing to hold onto him, while her other hand slipped between them to cup him through his trousers, rubbing her hand against him firmly. Groaning, he pressed himself into her grip and kissed her fiercely. She could taste herself on his tongue and it felt so damned erotic, she couldn't wait any longer to have him inside of her.

Her fingers fumbled hurriedly at the laces of his trousers. He seemed to have the same urgency that she felt - as soon as he was free he was pressing back between her thighs. His left arm wrapped around her back and his right hand grabbed at her hip, his fingers digging into her skin. Spreading her legs wider, she grabbed at his hips and pulled him into her, arching her back as their bodies joined.

Emma tore her lips away, gasping for breath as he buried himself deep within her with one slow thrust, stretching her wickedly. 'Oh, god,' she moaned, wrapping her arms around him to hold him as tightly as she could. Groaning loudly, his hand pulled her leg tighter around his waist and he rocked his hips against hers, keeping as little distance between them as possible. It still didn't feel like enough.

Grabbing onto his shoulders, she lay back onto the desk, pulling him with her so that he lay on top of her. He responded immediately, bracing himself on his left forearm, his head pushing hers aside to attach his lips to her neck. Kneading at her breast, he picked up his pace, thrusting into her faster, harder.

He was acting exactly how she felt - desperate, needy - and she wasn't surprised to feel the tension starting to build in her again. He pounded into her relentlessly, furiously, giving her no time to catch her breath or centre herself, and she was very quickly losing control. Unhooking her legs from around his hips, she put the bottoms of her feet against the top of the desk, using her new leverage to raise her hips to meet him with every thrust.

Killian's movements were starting to get more erratic with every moment. He shifted his angle slightly and was hitting that perfect spot, and she couldn't help the whimpers that left her with every thrust. Quickly losing herself, she grasped onto his arms, needing to hold onto  _something,_ her fingernails digging into his skin, but the feel of his tight biceps under her grip was hardly helping matters.

His body started trembling but his pace didn't relent, hot sounds coming from him with every breath, and after a few quick thrusts his whole body stiffened above her, a long moan escaping his lips as his cock pulsed inside of her. The feel of him hardening and coming inside of her sent her over the edge, pressing her hips up as he pressed his down, both of them trying to melt inside the other.

Eventually Emma's mind came back to her body. She was lying, boneless, on the hard desk, Killian's body sprawled across hers. Starting to get her breathing under control, she pressed her lips against his temple, then put a hand to either side of his face, lifting him off her enough to see him.

She wasn't prepared for the hesitancy that she saw in his eyes, and she was sure it made her heart stop for a moment. Then her mind caught up with reality and she could have slapped herself - her past self, anyway. What had she been thinking? How could this feeling have been anything but right?

Rubbing her thumb across his cheek, she smiled up at him, trying to put all of her feeling into her expression, hoping he'd believe her sincerity. 'I love you,' she told him firmly, needing him to believe it. 'Oh!'

He kissed her again with just as much hunger, his hand in her hair, and when he finally pulled away she couldn't help but grin up at him. He smiled back at her, the cautious look replaced by exactly what was tearing through her own heart. 'I love you, Emma,' he breathed. She'd accused him of it before, but something clicked inside her when he actually said it.

She felt like she lost something when he pulled out of her and stood up, but then he was helping her to her feet, holding onto her and guiding her across the cabin to his bed. Pulling back the covers with his hook, he gestured for her to slide in first and she did, letting a quick grin grab hold of her. Tonight could have gone so differently. She knew that there would be more to it, that she'd need to work hard to renew his trust in her, but she'd take that as it came.

Laying back on the pillows, Emma watched as he removed his trousers, which had still been hanging low on his hips, then sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her. It took her a moment to realize what he was doing, but when she did she sat up slightly in surprise, propping herself up on her elbows.

He'd twisted off his hook and his fingers were running along the leather straps that ran up his arm and over his elbow and shoulder to hold the attachment in place, deftly undoing the clasps and slipping the leather off of him. Pulling the attachment off, he placed it carefully on the chest next to his bed and slipped under the covers, not quite looking at her.

She'd come here tonight to fix thing between them, but she was going to do better than that. This was as big a show of faith as he could give her, one that she hadn't been expecting, and she would be damned if she didn't worship every single part of him. Leaning forward, she pulled him toward her by the shoulder, settling them on the bed so they were facing each other on their sides. The light was dimmer on this side of the cabin, but she was glad that he hadn't extinguished the lantern - she wanted to see, and she wanted him to know that she could.

Running her hand slowly down his arm, she lifted it gently by the elbow so that it rested between them. Careful to take her time, she trailed her fingers lightly across the skin of his forearm, running them along the scars that would have been made from the rubbing leather before his skin got used to the burn. When she came closer to his wrist he started to pull away but her hand tightened around his arm, not letting him move.

He sighed quietly, and she looked up at him solemnly. He looked... sad. 'Emma...' he whispered, his voice pained.

She brought her other hand up to press her fingers against his lips, quietening him. After a moment she slipped her hand across to cup his cheek. 'I want every part of you.'

His eyes closed and he turned his head away, but she ignored the reluctance on his face. Loosening her grip, she kept her other hand on his face as she moved her fingers carefully across his skin, not stopping this time until she felt the uneven skin of his scar. She was aware that he probably didn't have the most feeling in that spot after all this time, but she made sure to be gentle as she cupped her hand over it, rubbing the palm of her hand against it softly.

He was too quiet, so she lifted her eyes to his again, swallowing hard when she realized that his shoulders were trembling slightly. Wrapping her hand around his stump and holding it against her chest, she shuffled closer to him and slid her other hand to rest at the back of his neck, flexing slightly in his soft hair. After a moment his right arm wrapped around her waist, his hand settling on her lower back.

'It's been a long time since I've wished to have my hand back for reasons other than the practical,' he told her quietly, his voice shaking slightly. 'I wish I could be whole for you.'

Emma sucked in her breath and both of her hands tightened involuntarily. Moving the hand gripping his arm, she pressed her hand against his heart instead of hers, holding his arm against his chest between them. 'You're whole where it counts. In here.'

He laughed bitterly. 'No, Emma, I'm not.'

And part of that was her fault. 'I'll fix it,' she said firmly. If it was the last thing she did...

He returned her look with one just as serious, and when he tried to pull his arm away she didn't stop him. But instead of turning away from her he brought his arm up and - slowly, as if not to scare her away - he caressed her cheek with the end of his wrist. He was holding his breath, staring at her as if terrified that she'd push him away in revulsion, but she met his gaze steadily, not even considering backing down. She'd take every part of him, and she was determined to let him know that. 'You're everything I need,' she whispered, and smiled softly when he let out his breath in a big whoosh, the tension starting to leave his body. Leaning forward, she kissed him, sighing in contentment when he responded immediately, their lips moving in sync as he rolled their bodies slightly so he was lying partially on top of her. 'Just you and me,' she murmured against his lips.

Killian pulled back enough that she could see his face. Every time she saw his smile, she felt like another part of the chasm between them was healing. 'And Henry,' he said, leaning on his elbow and twining a lock of her hair around his finger. After a moment his warm smile turned into a grin. 'And Snow and David. And Regina, I guess. Plus, from what I hear from your lad, half the town wants a claim to him.'

Emma returned his grin easily. The fact that he was so readily considering Henry made her feel guilty for ever doubting that he'd accept her son in his life. After a moment her smile faded as the other big part of Henry's life came to mind. 'And Neal,' she said slowly, wishing she could look away but needing to see his reaction. 'I wouldn't ask him to stay away from Henry if I could. Now that he's in his life, he'll be heartbroken if he left.' Now she did glance away, feeling embarrassed, but only for a moment. 'I may have... threatened him,' she told him hesitantly.

She didn't really know what she'd expected, but it wasn't for him to chuckle at her. 'I wouldn't expect anything different. And to be honest, I think things between myself and Baelfire might get easier. He told me tonight that he didn't blame me anymore for what happened to him.' Brushing her hair away from her face, he rested his forehead against hers. As bizarre as it was that the man that she loved felt responsible for the father of her child, she was willing to look past it all for the moment and just lose herself in the tentative happiness in Killian's eyes. 'Just... as long as you're mine, Emma. I don't want to be without you again.'

The second time they made love it was exactly that - passionate and gentle and love, so much love, nothing like they'd had together before. There was nothing standing in their way, and Emma had a feeling that as they healed the broken shards between them, their lonely, broken parts of themselves could be healed as well. They moved together as if they'd been made to do so, and her heat built in a long, slow burn until, holding Killian as tightly to her as she could with arms and legs, she fell over the edge, dragging him over with her. Killian moaned her name as they came, and continued to whisper it as he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him and wrapping his arms around her.

They lay like that for a while, Emma's head on his shoulder, one hand trailing patterns on his chest, mixing with his dark hair, one leg lying between his. His arm wrapped around her waist, his fingers rubbing gently up and down her side, and the touch was slowly making her drift towards sleep. She couldn't see his face properly, but from his even breathing she figured he must be nearly there, too. She had no real idea of what time it was, but she knew it had to be pretty late, and they'd both have to be awake early to prepare for the journey home, after stopping by her parent's castle. Smiling at the thought of home, she closed her eyes.

'I really didn't want to let you go tomorrow.'

Killian spoke so softly that Emma wasn't really sure that she'd been meant to hear him, but she was too curious to let it pass. 'Would you really have left?' she asked, just as quietly, opening her eyes.

He didn't answer straight away, and Emma wondered if he really knew what he would have done. So much had changed between them in just a few hours. 'Probably not,' he said eventually, stilling his hand. 'Or if I had, I probably would have turned right back around and fought for you.'

And there it was again. She leant back enough that she could twist her head to look at him. He didn't look sad, not really, but she knew it was there. 'I'm sorry that I didn't fight for you,' she told him. She felt ashamed of herself, and she needed him to understand. 'I don't think I've ever been so stupid as I've been over these past few weeks. You're worth fighting for, Killian.'

His answering smile was still too cautious for her liking, but it was a start. Needing to see the light in his eyes, she rolled over fully so that she was lying on her stomach, crossing her arms over his chest and resting her chin on her forearms. 'You know you don't have to live in your ship,' she told him wryly.

There was the grin that she wanted. He raised his eyebrow at her. 'Oh, really? Where else would I sleep?'

Here goes nothing. 'In my bed,' she said cheerfully, trying to hide her nervousness.

She guessed that he saw straight through it, but the way the slow, genuine smile spread across his face made it worth it. 'I've been led to believe that you live not only with Henry but with your parents too, love. I know I only saw your abode briefly, but it appeared rather small for a family of five.'

Damn it. Biting her lip, she felt her heart sink. 'Yeah, I guess,' she muttered. Could they make it work? It barely worked as it was.

He still looked happy, however, so she narrowed her eyes at him. 'What are you planning?'

'Nothing at the moment,' he told her, 'but I'm sure that we'll work it out. Together, and tomorrow.' He pulled her in for a kiss, then she settled back beside him. She could feel his lips against her hair, and smiled against his chest. 'Goodnight, my love,' he whispered.

Emma fell asleep with a smile on her face, feeling more complete than she had in a long time.


	10. Epilogue

**_Three years later._ **

No. No.  _No, no, no, no._

Not today.

No.

Swallowing the gigantic lump in her throat that had appeared around about the same time as the heavy pit in her gut, Emma stared in horror at the plastic stick that was clenched in her hand. She'd bought the thing on a hunch that she'd scoffed at herself for, telling herself that she might as well just take the damn test, that if she didn't do it today then she'd have no way of knowing for sure for too long to suit her. She'd gone to the store last week, threatening Clark - or Sneezy, whatever - on pain of death if he breathed a word to anybody. It had hidden at the bottom of her draw since then, but she knew that if she was going to use it then it had to be today. She hadn't  _actually_  believed that she'd get this result.

_This couldn't be happening. It wasn't happening. Nope._

Moving for the first time in at least ten minutes, she threw the stick in the trash, hiding it beneath a few empty toilet rolls for good measure. Standing at the sink, she washed her shaking hands, then pressed them to her face, rubbing her wet fingers across her cheeks and across the back of her neck. Her reflection stared back at her, her worried face mocking her.

God damn it,  _why today?_

It had been three years since they'd returned from Neverland, and they had been without question the best years of Emma's life. Not that her life had been that great before coming to Storybrooke, so it wasn't really that hard an accomplishment, but she'd had almost nothing to complain about since then. Regina, Neal and herself had come to a fairly stable agreement regarding dividing Henry's time between them, and although they all wished for more, it was as fair as could be. Her relationships with both Regina and Neal had settled into a respectful association bordering on friendship, and although some old hurts could never be forgotten, her wounds had healed enough that things were pretty easy all around now. Mulan had settled into modern life like she'd been born to it, coming to work with her at the sheriff's office. Mary Margaret and David had found their own place, not too far from the loft where Emma still lived.

And her pirate. Hook. Killian. When they'd returned to Storybrooke he'd moved straight into the loft with her, much to the excitement of Henry and the chagrin of her parents. She was pretty sure that was why they'd moved out so quickly; David and Killian were practically inseparable now, but she still saw plenty of the protective daddy that she'd missed out on during her childhood.

It had taken Neal quite a while for him to be at ease with Killian, but they were on good enough terms now. She was sure it was mostly due to how ridiculously well Killian and Henry had taken to each other, and even Neal had been able to see that Killian's intentions were pure. The three of them had even gone out on the Jolly Roger for the day the other week, and she could see Killian's happiness that their time together had been so companionable.

And a few months ago, Emma had started working with Regina and Gold to find a way to send them home.

They had no way to make a portal, but they did have magic. Emma was still hesitant to practice hers, but they'd discovered that between them, they had enough power to create another curse, a reflection of the curse that had sent them to the land without magic in the first place. Gold and Regina had done most of the work, tweaking it so that it would send them to the Enchanted Forest, but they'd keep all of their memories and true personas. Regina had told her in confidence that she wasn't entirely sure, but she had a feeling that the curse would restore the Enchanted Forest to the way it was before the curse had hit it originally. If not, they'd have a hell of a lot of work to do.

Today was the day. Everyone else was desperate to go home, and Emma had finally come to terms with the idea. She'd started to really look forward to it, in fact. She had her family, she had close friends for the first time in her life, and she'd realized that it didn't really matter where she lived, as long as those things came with her. She had been ready.

Until now.

She should have taken a test sooner. Damn it, she was two weeks late as it was, and she was  _never_  late, but she'd been too busy feeling good about life and planning to notice, and then too skeptical since last week to take the damn thing. She knew they'd become lax in their protection, but she hadn't  _actually thought..._

Knocking at the door broke her out of her thoughts, and she gave her reflection one last hard look before turning away from it. 'Yeah?'

'Emma, are you okay?' Mary Margaret called out, her voice slightly muffled from the door between them. 'You've been in there a little while now...'

Taking one more moment to try and compose herself, she pulled open the door and grabbed Mary Margaret's arm, quickly pulling her into the bathroom and shutting the door firmly behind them.

Mary Margaret stared at her, wide eyed. 'Emma! What's going on?'

'Um.' She tried to smile, but she was sure that it came out more as a grimace. 'I need to tell you something, and I need you not to tell anyone.'

'Okay,' she said, frowning and drawing the word out slowly.

Emma paused, taking a moment to study her mother. Although they didn't have anything like a traditional mother-daughter relationship, they had become comfortable with what they did have over the past few years. She was her best friend, more like her sister than anything, but in this moment she really just needed her mother. 'I'm pregnant,' she said carefully, wincing in preparation for her response.

She reacted exactly as Emma had expected - with a loud squeal, then quickly covering her mouth with both hands as Emma gestured wildly at her to shush. 'Oh my god, Emma! That's incredible! Does Killian know?'

'No, I only just found out, like thirty seconds ago.'

'Oh, Emma. He'll be a fantastic father. Just look at how he is with Henry. Oh!' Her eyes started watering up as her expression became one of utter joy. 'I'm going to be a grandmother! Again, I mean, but this time... Oh, Emma!'

Emma accepted her hug gratefully, drawing comfort from her. 'Mom, I'm scared,' she said quietly.

Mary Margaret pulled back enough to see her, but kept her hands on her upper arms. She looked at her quizzically for a few seconds before realization dawned on her face. 'You're worried about having a baby in the Enchanted Forest.'

And there it was. 'I thought I'd be able to cope without it. Without technology, without everything I know. I knew it would be hard, but you've done it before, and I figured that we'd be able to manage well enough. But now...' Everything that was running through her mind suddenly gushed forth. 'What if it needs medicine? What if something goes wrong and because we're there, there's nothing we can do about it? We'll have no way of knowing whether it's healthy until it's born -'

She cut off, blinking quickly. She'd stunned herself with her own words.  _Until it's born_. When she gave birth to a real live baby. She pressed her hands against her stomach, wondering at the life growing in there.

Mary Margaret gave her a moment, then took both of her hands in hers, squeezing them gently. 'Honey, everyone that lives in Storybrooke was born in the Enchanted Forest, except for Henry. And we all turned out fine. I won't pretend that it might be a bit harder, but we will still have medicines. Doc delivered you for me, he can do the same for your babe.'

Emma still felt panicked at the prospect, but tried her best to push it away. 'What if I'm not ready? What if Killian's not ready?'

Mary Margaret smiled at her warmly. 'You've done a fantastic job raising Henry these last few years. And trust me, Killian will be ecstatic.'

'We've never really talked about it,' she said hesitantly, worrying her lip between her teeth. What if he didn't want children of his own?

'That doesn't mean he doesn't want it,' her mother reminded her, apparently reading her mind, giving her one last squeeze before letting go. 'Go talk to him, Emma. We have time.'

It took Emma a few minutes to find Killian. The last time she'd seen him he'd been in the kitchen with Henry and David, giving her a quick one-armed hug, a kiss on the top of her head, and a tired "good morning". He'd set to making coffee and she'd gone to enjoy her last shower ever.

She finally found him in their spare room. He was leaning over the computer desk with his back to her, cursing quietly but violently as something banged and clanked. Not wanting to interrupt him just yet, Emma leaned against the door frame, watching him fuss over whatever he was doing.

It still surprised her every day, the intensity of the love that she felt for him. When everything had worked out so well in the end, it was easy to curse herself and call herself all kinds of stupid for pushing him away. He'd forgiven her a long time ago for the appalling way that she'd treated him, but she didn't think she'd ever be able to forgive herself. Somehow, he was still here, and she thought that he loved her maybe almost as much as she loved him. She wished she'd let herself accept happiness from the start, because this time it had been nothing but good to her.

She'd never expected how well he'd take to Henry, or how much they'd come to care about each other. She'd never admit it, but she sometimes felt jealous of the bewilderedly happy look on Killian's face when he looked at her son when he thought no one was looking, until he looked to her with that same expression.

Neither of them had been prepared to be so ridiculously happy.

She felt her chest tighten, and her throat, as she watched him fumble with what looked like the printer but he was blocking her view, getting more frustrated by the second. She'd never get over how well he looked in normal clothes, still wearing his hook. He'd tried to go without it for a little while, but had hated the idea of a prosthetic, and eventually had decided that his hook was more practical than nothing. Besides, he'd spent so long wearing it that he didn't really feel the same without it, although he didn't keep it sharp anymore.

The room started to become cloudy, but she didn't realize that her eyes were welling up until she blinked and twin tears dropped onto her cheeks. She quickly tried to wipe them away, not wanting him to think she was upset. She must have made some sound, for he stiffened then spun around quickly, jumping in front of the computer screen. He'd grabbed something and was holding it behind his back, a sheepish look on his face. After half a second his expression turned to horror and he dropped whatever he was holding, rushing to her side.

'Emma,' he murmured, wrapping one arm around his waist lightly while his hand cupped her cheek. His eyes bore into hers as his fingers wiped her remaining tears away. 'Darling, what's wrong?'

She opened her mouth, and had no clue what to say. What if he was disappointed? She kicked herself immediately.  _When are you going to finally stop doubting him?_  'I just found out that I'm pregnant,' she said slowly, still not quite believing her own words.

Confusion, wonder, and then his arms tightened around her as he kissed her, his hand still caressing her cheek. He kissed her with so much passion that it made her knees weak, and she had to hold onto his arms to keep herself steady. 'Emma, Emma,' he whispered against her lips. 'I love you so much. This is...' He trailed off, pulling back enough that she could see the sudden hesitance in his eyes. 'Why are you crying, love? Is this not what you wanted?' He looked so nervous.

Putting her hand over his, she held it against her cheek. 'I don't think I realized how much I wanted this, to be honest,' she admitted, and his face split into a big grin that she wanted to share. 'It's just...' She tried to take a deep breath but her chest was too tight. 'I wasn't afraid to leave this world, not before. But now... '

His grin was gone, his gaze searching, and he didn't need to ask her what she feared. She could tell the moment when he made his decision. 'We'll leave,' he said quickly, quietly. 'We'll take Henry and go. We're not stuck in Storybrooke like the others. We can find a life somewhere. '

'Killian -'

'It'll be all right, love. I'll find a better job and buy us a house. I can provide for us, I can look after our family. I'll keep you safe, you and Henry and -' He cut off, taking a step back to stare down at her stomach, not quite letting go of her.

And suddenly it was okay. She knew without a doubt that he  _would_ keep her safe, her and their baby, no matter what happened. And she wasn't so afraid anymore.

Putting both hand on either side of his face, Emma lifted his head back to look at her. 'We're going to the Enchanted Forest, Killian,' she said firmly. 'I've already taken too long to get used to the idea, and now I don't want to wait any longer. I can't keep you from your home any longer.'

'The Enchanted Forest isn't home anymore,' Killian said softly, stepping back up to her and rubbing his thumb across her cheek. 'You are.'

There was that lump again in her throat, but this time it wasn't from worry. 'I love you,' she breathed, pulling him closer to kiss him gently.

They kissed slowly, the way that always made her chest ache, that made her heart feel full. His fingers moved from her cheek, brushing their way down her arm and her side until they reached the hem of her shirt. Slipping beneath the fabric, he pressed the palm of hand flat against her stomach, splaying his fingers across her skin. He broke the kiss but didn't move away, his forehead resting against hers, and she realized that he was trembling. 'Emma,' he whispered, tightening his arm around her waist.

Moving her hand to rest over his, she slid her fingers in between the gaps that his made, leaning back a little and smiling at him. 'We're going to have a baby,' she told him, unable to keep the smile from turning into a grin.

'We're going to have a baby,' he repeated, like he couldn't quite believe the words. She knew that she couldn't. He lowered himself to his knees and pulled up her shirt to properly reveal her stomach, and she removed her hand so that he could run his fingers across her skin. After a moment he pressed his face lightly against her stomach, and she could feel his breath against her.

She threaded her fingers in his hair, holding him to her for a minute, before she tugged on him lightly. 'Come on, Dad. We still have lots to do today.'

'And you're lot lifting a finger,' she thought she heard him mutter before he rose to his feet. 'Dad,' he mused louder, looking her with so much love that all she wanted to do was reach out and kiss him again. 'Emma, this is the greatest gift...'

He trailed off again, glancing over his shoulder quickly, and she followed his gaze. There was a carved wooden box lying on its side on the floor beside the computer desk, and small pieces of paper were strewn across the carpet. 'Just what were you doing in here?' she asked, frowning.

That sheepish look had returned, but was now partnered with what looked like guilt. 'It was going to be a surprise for when we got there,' he told her, leaving her to pick up the box, kneeling to gather the papers.

She followed him and knelt beside him, picking up a handful of paper and turning it over. They were  _pictures,_  printed onto glossy paper.

_Emma, Killian, Henry, at Granny's._

_Henry, David, Mary Margaret, at the park._

_Henry and Killian aboard the Jolly Roger._

_Henry standing at the helm, with Killian on one side and Neal on the other._

_Emma, Mary Margaret, Ruby, drinks in hand._

_Henry, Emma, Killian, Neal, Regina, Mary Margaret, David, Gold, Belle. The strangest and most amazing Thanksgiving of her life._

She looked at picture after picture, grimacing when they started to go blurry, and after a few minutes she felt arms settle around her waist from behind, Killian's cheek pressing against her neck. 'I know that leaving this life behind won't be easy for you, that you'll miss it,' he told her quietly. 'I thought this might help.'

The tears were flowing freely now, and she bother trying to wipe them away. 'What were you so angry at?'

She felt him groan lightly. 'I think it ran out of ink. How long were you watching me for?'

'A little while. I had to get in my last fix of watching you struggle with technology.'

'Just wait until we're in my world and we'll find out who's easy to laugh at,' he grumbled, gathering the last pictures and closing the box, standing and helping her to her feet.

She smirked at him. 'Hey, I'm not the one trying to convince people that I'm a fierce pirate.'

Her eyes dropped to the computer desk and she noticed which image was on the screen, the one that he'd been trying to print. Herself, Killian and Neal were sitting around a beaming Henry. She took a step toward the computer, reaching out to touch the screen, the other hand pressing against her stomach. 'We're not going to have pictures,' she said, her heart sinking. 'No new ones. No video. We won't be able to record the baby growing up.'

Killian's arms gathered around her again. 'It's a good thing we know somebody who can draw with an incredible likeness,' he pointed out.

Neal.

'Things won't be the same in the Enchanted Forest,' he told her, catching both of her hands with his and using his hook to push the hair back from her face. The coolness of the metal felt good against her flushed skin. 'Some things may be more difficult, and others will be easier. But there is always a way. There is always another option, and we will make it work,' he promised her.

 _How did he always know what to say?_  Wiping her eyes, she smiled up at him.  _We can make it work, as long as we have each other._  'Will you get Henry?' she asked, and was rewarded as his eyes lit up in excitement at the idea of telling him.

Several hours later, she was in the living room, surrounded by her family. Her ridiculous, wonderful, family. Gold and Regina were elsewhere around the town, doing a last minute check of the spell they'd set in place, but Emma had pleaded her absence, telling them that her help now wouldn't make any difference. She sat on the couch between Killian and Henry, with Neal on her sons other side, as Henry went through a last minute recital of all the things he still couldn't believe he'd get to do as a prince in the Enchanted Forest. They weren't sure how much the curse would bring with them, but Emma clutched the carved wooden box filled with pictures to her chest, determined that if anything would make it across, it would be these memories.

Killian pressed against her side gently. 'Are you all right?' he asked quietly, resting his hand over hers where it held the box and twining their fingers together.

'Yeah,' she said, smiling, and meant it. 'I'm ready.'

Wrapping her arm around Henry's neck, she looked past him to Neal. He put his hand over hers where it rested on Henry's shoulder and squeezed it gently.  _Congratulations_ , he mouthed at her, smiling at her warmly.

 _Thank you,_ she mouthed back.

Neal let go of her hand and leaned forward slightly, nodding his head to Killian. Emma turned to see Killian dipping his head in return, a half smile on his face, his hand holding hers a little tighter.

Only a few minutes later Mary Margaret came running from the window. David wrapped one arm around her waist and clapped the other hand onto Killian's shoulder, and Neal took Henry's arm. No one was quite sure where the curse would land them, but none of them wanted to take the chance of being separated.

A dark purple cloud filled the room, blocking out her view of everything, and Emma closed her eyes. She held onto Killian and Henry tightly, using them as her anchor against the panic that threatened to spike now that the moment was upon them.

She  _felt_  the world shift.

Opening her eyes, Emma looked around her desperately.

They were all there, her family clutching tightly to each other, standing in her parents castle, which no longer looked like the ruin that they'd visited last time that they were here.

Her new home.

_In her old nursery._

Looking around the room, finally seeing it the way her parents had intended, she felt all of the love that they'd wanted her to grow up with. Everything that she'd missed out on, that she now had.

She felt warm arms come around her from behind, one hand resting on her stomach, and leaned back into Killian. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing as she was, that in less than a year there'd be their own little baby sleeping in the cot that had been meant for her.

'Welcome home, love.'

_Home._


End file.
